


When Worlds Collide

by books_are_my_patronus1397



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan, Robin Hood (Traditional)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crossover, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-20 05:53:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 131,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1499071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/books_are_my_patronus1397/pseuds/books_are_my_patronus1397
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since she was little and living as a ward of Castle Redmont, Marian Harwood always wanted to be a Ranger.  But there was just one problem: she was a girl and girls had never before been admitted into the Ranger Corps.  But, when the famous Will Treaty accepted her as his apprentice, Marian thought her dreams had come true.  What she didn't realize was that far in the North trouble was brewing and soon Araluen would be fighting a bitter war against insurrectionists.  What they are after seems impossible.  When King Duncan reveals that their leader, a disinherited nobleman named Jeren, discovered a gateway to another world and wants to use their resources to fuel his own grab for power, Marian is stunned.  The Rangers are being hunted down and Araluen as she knows it is in danger of collapse all because of this mysterious other world.  She is sent there to learn what exactly lies behind the gateway.  What she discovers is that the land called England and the town of Nottingham are just as perilous as her own and that the fight for justice is never over, no matter what universe she is in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Choosing

**Author's Note:**

> This work does not take into account any of the events in the newest Ranger's Apprentice book by John Flanagan, Ranger's Apprentice: The Royal Ranger. There are some deviations from the world of Ranger's Apprentice as well as the traditional Robin Hood story. It is my first fanfic, but I hope you enjoy it!

Marian stood in the line with her year-mates, waiting. They stood in the middle of a large stone room, facing the Baron of Redmont fief. He was a larger man with greying hair, but a legend among the people of Araluen. One large window took up most of the eastern wall and the heavy wooden shutters used to keep out the elements were open to let in the afternoon air. Marian was one of four wards of Castle Redmont who were turning fifteen that year, which meant they would be moving on from the castle into training for various professions. Today was the Choosing, the day that would determine who she was and what she did for the rest of her life. Marian’s hands were sweaty but she kept them clasped tight behind her back, trying to look as calm and collected as possible. Every Craftsmaster who had an opening for an apprentice was going to be here. Marian lifted her chin, determined to prove to them that she was unafraid, that she was worthy of being an apprentice.

Marian looked to her right and her friend Carey winked at her. They were the only two girls in the group turning fifteen and had been fast friends since they were young, allies against the three boys. Marian tried to smile back, but it was weak and she knew it. She didn’t want to think about whether or not she was going to be accepted as an apprentice. She wasn’t particularly cut out for any of the schools. Sure, some aspects of each one had interested her throughout the years growing up but none of them really stood out.

 _Okay ___, she admitted to herself, _that’s not true ___. When she was little she used to talk about being a Ranger. She would sneak into the library and read everything she possibly could about them. But it wasn’t long before she stopped talking about it, though she never quite gave up learning about them. First of all, it was weird for a common girl like her to be so interested in the mysterious group of Rangers when most people were afraid of them. Second, she was a girl, as everyone kept telling her. _Like I hadn’t already figured that out ___.

___Marian frowned, her normally sky-blue eyes changing to the color of stormy ocean waters as she thought about her ten-year old grievance. Who had ever decreed girls couldn’t be Rangers? That particular rule had never been specified, she had checked. And yet, it was a given that she couldn’t be a Ranger because she was a girl. Many people had told her that she should go into the Diplomatic Service, like Alyss Mainwaring one of the famous wards of Redmont Fief. But she never had much diplomatic tact, Carey could definitely attest to that. What she wanted was to be out in the field learning how to shoot, how to move unseen, to be a Ranger, but that wasn’t going to happen. So as the years went by she become quieter about her true dreams and left everyone else to speculation. At this point it didn’t really matter where she was placed. _So why am I still so nervous? _____ _

____The door behind them opened and she couldn’t help but turn to watch as representatives from every school with an opening filed in. She watched as Carey followed Master Chubb’s, one of the most famous cooks, every move. Her dream since she was eight had been to apprentice with him. Silently Marian crossed her fingers to give Carey some luck._ _ _ _

____“They all look so serious,” the boy to her left muttered in her ear. Marian tried to keep a smile from her face._ _ _ _

____“They have to, James. It’s in the job description,” she whispered back._ _ _ _

____“Still, don’t they realize we’re nervous enough already?"_ _ _ _

____Marian was saved from having to reply as Martin, Baron Arald’s secretary, cleared his throat. “Good morning boys and girls,” he started out, his loud voice making Marian jump a little. “Today is the first day of the rest of your life….”_ _ _ _

____She meant to pay attention, she really did. But Martin’s voice started to fade away as her gaze found two hooded and cloaked figures standing in the shadows behind Baron Arald, who was sitting at his desk. One was shorter and if she squinted she could just make out the hint of a grey and grizzled beard. The other was slightly taller, though not by much, and seemed to be staring at her. As the two of them unfolded themselves from the wall she heard a slight murmur flow through her fellow wards. Martin stopped and frowned, seeming a little perturbed at the interruption of his inspiring speech._ _ _ _

____Rangers. The mottled cloaks were enough to tell anyone from Araluen and most other countries that these men were Rangers. Marian felt sure that one of them was Halt, one of the Rangers stationed here at Redmont. And if one was Halt she would bet all her desserts for a year the other one was Will Treaty._ _ _ _

____“Naithan Hawke,” Arald spoke up, startling Marian out of her reverie and drawing attention back to the occasion. “Shall we start with you? Which school would you like to enter?”_ _ _ _

____Naithan squared his shoulders. “Battleschool mi’lord,” he said. _No surprise there ___, Marian thought wryly. Everyone knew Naithan was destined for battleschool, he had the build for it. He was nice enough but mostly she and Naithan avoided each other._ _ _ _

_____Naithan was accepted quickly, like she knew he would be and the Baron moved down the line. “James Carroway?”_ _ _ _ _

_____James cleared his throat, suddenly tongue tied now that his moment had come. Marian nudged him forward with her elbow. “H-horseschool, please. My lord.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Behind Martin, the Baron raised his eyebrows and Marian smiled a bit at his surprise. Not many people pegged James as a horse person, but he had told both her and Carey he was going to apply. It didn’t surprise Marian at all, he fit in well with horses. He was gangly, but swift and graceful when he wasn’t thinking about it. He needed people around him and was friendly, but had a fierce bite when provoked._ _ _ _ _

_____The Horse Master eyed him up and down for a few moments and Marian’s stomach clenched in sympathetic nervousness. “He might do,” the man said. “I’ll see you at the stables tomorrow at dawn.”_ _ _ _ _

_____James nodded, unable to keep the grin from spreading across his freckled face. Marian smiled at him, glad he got the school he wanted. But she went cold the minute she heard her name called._ _ _ _ _

_____“Marian Harwood?” Martin called. The Baron looked at her expectantly as she stepped forward from the line. There was an almost imperceptible movement from him, as he leaned forward to hear her. “What school would you like to join?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Marian looked at the line of waiting Masters and she opened her mouth to answer, deciding to go with whatever came out of her mouth. But then, of their own accord, her eyes wandered to the two cloaked men hovering in the background. “I want to be a Ranger.”_ _ _ _ _

_____She clapped her mouth shut. She had said that? After all these years of keeping quiet her mouth betrayed her at this one moment. She heard snickers and her cheeks started to burn. She wished her hair were down so she could hide a little behind her mass of brown curls. But today they were tied sedately back in a long braid down her back, leaving her exposed._ _ _ _ _

_____But it was true. No matter how many times people had told her it was impossible over the years she still wanted to be a Ranger. Marian raised her chin and looked steadily, not at Marting or Baron Arald, but at the Rangers behind him._ _ _ _ _

_____Arald's eyes flickered over to the Rangers and then back to Marian. “Are you sure child?" he asked, cutting in to the proceedings. "There is no other school you wish to apply for? No girl has ever been admitted to the Ranger Corps.”_ _ _ _ _

______Don’t you think I know that? ___She snapped in her head. But it wouldn’t do to offend one of the most powerful men in the country so she only shook her head. “I’m sure my lord.”_ _ _ _ _

______The Baron sighed. “Marian, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to stay after so we can talk.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Marian frowned and stepped back in line. What was going on? It wasn’t an outright refusal, but definitely not an acceptance either. She looked down at the floor ignoring the drone of voices and the looks James and Carey were giving her out of the corners of their eyes. She didn’t want their sympathy, not now. The only time she looked up was when Carey was accepted as Master Chubb’s apprentice and Marian gave her best friend an encouraging smile. But soon enough the Masters filed out of the room, the new apprentices following._ _ _ _ _ _

______“We’ll wait for you, after,” James whispered as he left. Marian stayed rooted to the floorboards until she got the courage to look up at the Baron._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Relax, child,” he said. “Halt, Will take off those hoods. There’s no need and you’re probably intimidating her.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m not intimidated,” she said and promptly shut her mouth, mortified. What was wrong with her today that she kept blurting things out?_ _ _ _ _ _

______The Baron looked at her and smiled. “No, you’re probably right. Though you’re one of the first people not initiated into the inner sanctum that would not be so.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I told you,” Will said as he lowered his hood, brown eyes twinkling out of a friendly face. Marian found it hard not to stare at one of the most famous Rangers in history. “She’s been reading up on us. Information tends to disillusion people, don’t you think Marian?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______The three men looked at her, waiting for her to speak. “Well,” she started out. "The Rangers are key to running the country. Even though your methods are secret and abilities a little uncanny, it’s not magic. You help people."_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Unfortunately, that little tidbit often doesn’t help our case,” Halt muttered in a growling voice._ _ _ _ _ _

______Marian didn’t say anything, not sure if she should answer the other most famous Ranger in the country. Luckily, she didn’t have to because Baron Arald started to talk. “Marian, I asked you to stay because I want to see if you really want to be a Ranger,” he said. “With no other females in the Corps you would feel left out in many respects. And not everyone is keen on the idea of there being a female Ranger in the first place.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Here it was, the gentle letdown. “I understand sir,” she said. “But you asked me what I wanted and this is it. If I can’t be Ranger I honestly don’t know what else I would do.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______The three men looked at each other. Halt scowling and Will with his eyebrows raised. Arald shook his head, “Of anyone it was bound to be you Will,” he muttered._ _ _ _ _ _

______Marian looked between the three men, not sure what to say. “The thing is, Marian,” Arald continued. “Will here as asked to take you as his apprentice.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Marian froze, sure she had been hearing things. _No way ___, she thought. _He’s not serious? _____ _ _ _ _

________“But it’s going to be tough,” Will said to her, stepping forward a bit. “The training is brutal. There will be days when your whole body hurts, when all you want to do is sleep and yet you have to track for half the morning in mud and rain. And the Baron is right, many people won’t be happy that you will be my apprentice.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________He is serious! ___she thought, elation fizzing through her chest. She was so happy, but she was afraid this moment would shatter if she didn’t do everything just right. “I’m not afraid of work, sir,” she said breathlessly. “I’ll do it, I’ll do anything you need me to if I get this chance. Please, I won’t let you down.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Halt huffed, but didn’t say anything. Will smiled. “Well then, first thing’s first. If you’re going to be my apprentice the first thing you need to do is start calling me Will.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Marian couldn’t believe it. She had gone in today with a heavy and grey outlook on the next few years of her life. But now, everything seemed possible. “Yes, s—“ Will raised his eyebrows and she smiled. “Yes, Will.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	2. The Summons

Marian put down her bucket with a sigh, pushing sweaty stray curls off her forehead, and looked straight into the calm, liquid brown eye of her pony. The afternoon sun, free from clouds, beat down with a vengeance and she was hot. “Seriously Sky, how many buckets of water does Will need me to bring? I mean, it’s been three years he still doesn't need me ferrying water around does he?”

Sky snorted and lipped at the end of Marian’s braid, which hung over her right shoulder as if to say _It’s good for you_. 

“Yeah, I know I’ve heard it before,” Marian sighed. “And I know I signed up for this. My back just hurts,” she said with a smile. Then she moved the bucket closer so Sky could drink from it. She rubbed her pony’s shaggy chocolate mane with an affection born of love and long, close acquaintance. She heard hoof beats and looked up to see Tug, Will’s own Ranger pony, trot close to hers. He whickered a greeting to them and looked longingly at his own water bucket, which Marian had in her other hand. “Hey Tug,” Marian said, setting the water down so Will’s pony could drink. She stood there watching the ponies, rubbing Sky’s neck absently.

She was stalling, she knew it. They had just gotten back from a reconnaissance mission a few days ago and she was exhausted. By the time they arrived at their destination all the leads had gone cold. They were pursuing a band of valkan, wolf-like creatures bred for one purpose: assassination. But they had come and gone so fast it was like she and Will were chasing ghosts. Coming back to Redmont empty handed was a blow, especially because it had started to become a regular occurrence. The clean and cheerful Ranger cabin she knew was changing. She knew Will wasn’t taking things so well, even though he tried to hide it from her and Alyss. The year she became Will’s apprentice, the trouble that had been brewing in the far outskirts of the country began to boil over. A lord called Jeren who had been banished to the North years ago had started gathering people to him, sending out bands of pillagers and marauders into the Araluen countryside. But the Rangers had gathered intelligence that he was planning something bigger, an attempt to take Araluen down from the inside. Marian’s training had gone into overdrive and she and Will moved around Araluen almost nonstop. But it wasn’t until year two that Rangers were being systematically targeted and killed.

Sky’s head came up, muzzle dripping, a second behind Tug’s. Both ponies’ ears were pricked forward. Marian turned and raised her hand to shade her eyes from the bright sunlight, looking down the dirt road that led to their cabin. It was a few moments before she heard the thud of hoof beats and a few moments more until her eyes adjusted to the harsh light and she recognized the hooded and cloaked form on a pony as familiar to her as Tug or Sky.

No good news would make Halt ride for Will’s cabin at the pace he was currently going. Marian ran to the cabin, leaving the horses and the water. The cabin itself was set right in front of where the forest on Redmont began. It was normally a peaceful setting but right now Marian was anything but at ease. She clutched her bronze oak leaf as she raced up the front porch, refusing to think about why Halt was there.

She got to the door just as Abelard was pulled to a stop and Halt jumped down, nodding to Marian. “Will?”

“Inside,” she said but it didn’t matter because Will had heard Halt arrive as well. The door opened and Will was there, Alyss behind them. One look at Halt and Marian saw their faces fall.

“Who was it?” Will asked, his throat raw.

“Richard, at Fief Carnan.” Marian sucked in her breath and her heart plummeted. The fief was a small one, not important in any way to the war Araluen was in. She had met Richard at the last Gathering. He had been nice to her, one of the few. Now, with his death, they were down to almost half their number, and the creatures doing the killing still haven’t been stopped.

Will ran his hand through his brown hair. “There’s more,” Halt said in his signature gruff voice. His eyes flicked over to Marian and Will froze. “Duncan asked me to bring you to Castle Araluen. Both of you.”

Marian was surprised and she looked to Will for reassurance, but he seemed to know just as much as she did. But he straightened and nodded to Halt. “Marian,” he said. 

“I’m on it,” she replied and squeezed past them to go grab her cloak, weapons, and a travel pack she kept ready just in case. When she came back out of her room, Will had already gone down to the paddock to saddle the ponies. Alyss was speaking with Halt, who was holding Abelard’s reigns and waiting for the two Rangers. Alyss smiled at Marian as she clambered down the porch. “Be safe,” she said.

Marian tried to smile as well but her stomach was in knots. “If you say so Alyss,” she replied, trying to keep the tone light. Will came up to them, leading both ponies, his face hidden by the cowl of his cloak. She took Sky’s reins, keeping her face from Will so he wouldn’t see how freaked out she really was.

“Ready?” Halt asked. Marian and Will swung on to their ponies’ backs simultaneously and Marian noticed Halt’s mouth twitch into the barest hint of a smile. “Let’s go.”

* * * *

Marian sat in King Duncan’s private audience room. It was simply furnished, not what she expected for a monarch of the country. The furniture was well made and had few decorations except for the royal crest on each armrest of his chair. On the floor was a rug that stretched from wall to wall of a deep red color. It looked so soft Marian thought it would feel like lying on a cloud, if she was so inclined to lie on the floor in front of the King. Bookshelves lined one wall and a large glass window filled the wall directly behind the King, filling the room with the burnished orange light of sunset. They had ridden hard to get here and Marian expected at least a night’s sleep before seeing the King, but that wasn’t to be. The moment they dismounted Princess Cassandra herself had greeted them and brought them here. If she knew what was going on, she didn’t tell them, which Marian knew bothered Will. She glanced over at her mentor, who was staring at Duncan, his face completely devoid of emotion. But she could tell from the way he held himself, taunt and battle-ready, that he was nervous.

Marian turned her gaze to her King and thought that he looked tired. His hair seemed a bit grayer than she thought it would be and his eyes seemed a bit more dull and sad than usual. His face was pale and he seemed almost…defeated. There was a nervous fluttering in her stomach as she pushed the thought away. Surely the war wasn’t going that badly, was it? I mean, they would have been told if something serious had happened.

“Thank you both for coming,” Duncan started.

_There wasn’t much of a choice_ Marian thought, but she stayed quiet, trying to imitate her mentor’s stoicism. She was a Ranger and she would do her duty to her King. 

Duncan rubbed his face. “I hate to do this. I do. But there is something you need to know, and something I need you to do,” Duncan sighed. “We are in danger of losing this war.”

Will stiffened beside her. “Majesty, I know it is bad but it's not hopeless. Even though Jeren’s attacks are becoming more concentrated we are so close to finding him. We have the numbers and we have the intelligence. We can stop him.”

“But this is the first time Rangers are being targeted so thoroughly,” Duncan said. “The first time the Ranger Corps has been this decimated and we are losing ground,” Marian shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “We need to take precautions. Which is why I called you here.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Will said.

“I have a mission,” Duncan said. “For your apprentice.” Marian blinked.

“What is it you need us to do?” Will asked but Duncan shook his head.

“Not you, Will, just your apprentice.”

Will frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Duncan waited, as if unsure whether or not to continue. “Five years ago, before Jeren was banished from Araluen, he discovered something. Something no one else except me, and a few of my most trusted advisers—Halt included—know about. He wanted to use it to increase his holdings, his wealth, and his status. He tried to use it to persuade us into a war, which I tried to avoid by banishing him.” He shifted as if embarrassed about something. “Now, you will need to trust me. I know how it is going to sound, believe me.”

Marian looked to Will, who seemed just as perplexed as she was feeling, but she didn't interrupt the King. “He found a gateway, of sorts. It,” he took a deep breath like he was about to jump off a ledge. “It leads to another world.”

Silence. _What?_ Marian thought. 

“Your Majesty,” Will said carefully.

“Will,” he said. “I understand. But you must trust me,” Duncan’s eyes flicked behind them and Marian turned to see Halt’s cloaked form disengage itself from the shadows in the corner.

“It’s true Will,” Halt said. Will turned to his old mentor. “The King built a guard tower, disguised as a supply station, to guard it. There’s a whole other universe on the other side of this gateway.”

“Why were the Rangers never told of this?” Will said, keeping his voice level.

“We can’t go around telling everyone there is a doorway to another world,” Duncan said with a slight smile. “Will, you must understand, we wouldn’t be saying any of this if there wasn’t a need.” 

“And what exactly do you want Marian for?” Will turned back around. Marian’s eyes widened at his tone and the look on his face. Will was angry.

Duncan glanced at Halt before looking back at Marian and Will. “I want to send her through.”

“Come again?” Halt said from behind them. This was not what he had expected.

“Your Majesty, no,” Will said at the same time.

Duncan frowned and straightened in his chair but Will continued speaking. “I will not send my apprentice into an unknown universe by herself. She hasn’t finished her training.”

“We need her here,” Halt added.

“No,” Duncan said. “We need you two here. Marian is the perfect person for this. She is an apprentice. She is your apprentice, Will. She is trained and trained well. I can trust her.”

“But I’m not essential,” Marian added. Her sudden input silenced the room. “I’m an apprentice, so my presence here isn’t necessary.”

“Yes,” Duncan said. She saw no pity in his eyes, only kindness. But she had to know.

“It is also because I am a girl,” Marian said.

“That has nothing to do with it,” Will said but Marian noticed Halt said nothing.

“I realize that my being an apprentice doesn’t sit well with some people,” she said quietly. “And if I disappear…” she shrugged.

“I’m going to be honest,” Duncan said. “Those factors are a part of my decision. However, you are the one person I could trust the most.”

“Who could be spared,” she added for him. Duncan nodded.

Marian looked down, thinking. If she could do something to help the war, then she would. She was a Ranger and would do her duty. She ignored the niggling feeling they were just trying to get rid of her. “What do you need me to do?” she said.

She noticed Will stiffen beside her, but he didn’t say anything. “I need you to observe and preserve,” Duncan said.

Marian frowned. “I need you to observe the world you are in. Jeren wants it,” Duncan said. “That is the reason for this war. He wants the wealth that land possesses and he wants the power that could come with it.” He shook his head. “But I also need you to preserve Araluen. Preserve our culture, the culture of the Rangers too. If we don’t survive you will be the only one left,” Duncan said. A chill, like a bead of ice, ran down Marian’s back. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if they lost.

“I’ll send specialized historical volumes dedicated to each branch of the Araluen government. And there will be a few Gilan will add as well, books only Rangers have ever seen.”

“And when would I leave?” Marian asked. She was surprised her voice was as steady as it was. She didn’t want to think about being on her own completely. No Corps, no Halt and no Will to help her. She wasn’t ready. She was still supposed to have a few years of training left. And yet here she was, running away to another world while her friends fought here without her.

“We have everything prepared,” Duncan said.

“Wait,” Will said. “Does she even have a choice?”

“She does,” Duncan said. He continued to look directly at her. “You do not have to do this, Marian. It will be dangerous. Everything about this new place is unknown and Will is right. You are still an apprentice. But consider this, another will be asked to take this mission. It needs to be done.”

Marian looked at the King and at Will. She could feel Halt’s stare on the back of her neck. A part of her wanted to refuse, to stay here with her family because that’s what Will, Halt, Alyss, and her friends were to her. She didn’t want to abandon them and, if she was being honest, she didn’t want to be by herself. But in the end she knew she didn’t really have a choice. She couldn’t let Will down. When he was an apprentice he was stopping entire armies, he was a slave to the Skandians and ended up making them allies. He wouldn’t have said no, and neither would she.

“I’ll do it.”


	3. The Gateway

Marian rode beside Will, neither of them saying anything. She watched Sky’s ears swivel as they rode, catching all the sounds and alert for any danger to her rider. The solid clopping of their ponies’ hooves on the dirt road was comforting. To either side of them were open fields, and the wind blew across the landscape unimpeded. They were on their way to the tower, the gateway, just her and Will. Halt and Alyss would meet them there. Duncan had agreed to let Alyss come after Marian had accepted the task he set her. But nobody else could know. Marian had written letters to both Carey and James, saying she would have to go away indefinitely. The night she wrote them she had difficulty keeping the tears in check, knowing she may never see her two friends again.

“Marian,” Will finally said, breaking the silence. She turned to look at him but didn’t answer. Whenever he addressed her in that tone it was better just to let him talk. “If this is about proving yourself, there is no need for it. You have done that dozens of times over during your training and the course of this war. You even saved both mine and Alyss’s lives two years ago and you were only in your first year of training. You are as much of a Ranger as anyone.”

Marian shook her head. What she did wasn’t that spectacular, the enemy had just overlooked her and she had taken the opportunity. “If that’s true than that means I have to do this even more. The King asked and as a Ranger I have to,” she argued, staring at a worn thread in Sky’s saddle blanket that was poking out. “But it’s not true. I’ve heard people talking Will, and not just other Rangers. It’s easier for everyone this way.”

“If they have something to say they can say it to me,” Will stated flatly. Marian glanced sidelong at him and thought the road itself would shiver under his glare. Then she had a thought and looked closely at him. “Do you think I can't do it?” she asked. Will seemed startled and finally met her eyes for the first time since they had ridden away from Castle Araluen.

“Of course you can do it,” he said. “I have no doubt about that.”

She felt a hot rush of anger that made her cheeks warm, but she kept her tone level. All she really wanted was Will to be proud of her, to believe in her. “Then why don’t you want me to go?”

Will was silent for a while and she listened to the distant calls of birds as they went about their daily lives. “You’re my first apprentice,” he answered her quietly. “And it scares me to think of you by yourself in a completely different place, one we know nothing about.” Then he grinned at her, making his face look more youthful and carefree. “Goodness knows why, especially since when I was your age I was doing things just as dangerous but I worry about you.”

Marian looked down, unsure what to say but comforted by his statement. “I want you to know that I am very proud,” Will said. “You are acting like a full Ranger now, anyone can see that.”

She smiled, warmed by his praise. “Thanks,” she replied.

They rode on then, talking about lighter topics to pass the time. There was a companionship and openness between them that was different than most mentors and apprentices, one much like the relationship between Will and Halt. They spoke of Will’s new mandolin and Gracelynn, Horace and Cassandra’s new baby daughter whom Marian had met a few months before. Tug and Sky conversed in their own way with nickers, snorts, and flicks of their tails, seeming to know that they may not see each other for a very long time. As the lunch hour came and went and the sun descended in the sky, Marian saw the dark, slender needle of the guard tower grow ever larger as they neared their destination.

When the King tried to explain it, she never fully understood. Apparently, the tower was built next to a small, solitary earthen cave in the middle of a field. The opening of the cave led to a tunnel, and who knew what was on the other side. The only thing anyone knew for certain was that it didn’t come out in Araluen. When the tower was built, the hill was covered in stone and the tunnel sealed with an iron door, guarded all day and all night so no one could go out and nothing could come in. A wall was built around the tower, complete with a guardhouse, portcullis and gate, as well as a small living and supply station for the six or so guards that lived there year-round. A small courtyard inside the wall at the base of the tower was the only place for receiving visitors and merchants. But there were no extra furnishings and no guest houses. Once Marian said her goodbyes, the others would either have to leave or camp outside the wall.

When they finally arrived she realized the tower was bigger than she thought. Its evening shadow stretched across the hills and into the river that ran across the eastern side of the wall. She and Will dismounted at the gate and she glanced up to see two soldiers standing at attention. Another soldier came out a side door to check their credentials and packs and then called up for the others to open the front gate. The portcullis was pulled up and huge oak doors, reinforced with iron straps, swung open to admit the two Rangers. They walked inside, leading their horses, and Marian couldn’t help but gaze around at the open space. In front of her were the barracks and storage houses used for the supplies the tower stored. Above them were floors from which to defend the tower and to her right was a large, rounded stone hill with the door. That was where she would be leaving her world, perhaps for good.

Halt and Alyss already stood there having left earlier than Marian and Will did. The grizzled Ranger stood with his hood up, holding Abelard’s reins. For all anyone could tell he was completely unaffected by the events, which didn’t surprise Marian in the least. Everyone knew what Halt was like. Alyss stood next to him, beautiful as ever in her white Courier dress. She smiled and waved slightly at Marian when she walked in.

“Here are the packages the King wants you to take.” Marian looked over and saw one of the guards gesture to a pile of saddlebags on the ground in front of him. It didn’t seem like the culture of Araluen could be contained in such little packs but she didn’t argue. She had packed lightly for herself to make room for the packages in her charge. Will helped her load them on to Sky, who stood patiently nose to nose with Tug. She was finishing buckling up the last strap when she felt a presence behind her. She turned and smiled when she saw Halt.

“Take care of yourself, girl. Remember your training,” he said gruffly. His hood was still up so she couldn’t see his face but it didn’t matter. In her years as Will’s apprentice she had gotten to know Halt and she knew him better than most. She didn’t realize just how fond of her the old Ranger had grown, but she knew he meant a lot to her and she she meant something to him, too. She also knew of his discomfort with open displays of affection and so, grinning wickedly, she hugged him. Halt sputtered when she drew away and she noticed some of the guards trying to hide smiles. Will and Alyss didn’t even try.

Then she rubbed Abelard’s neck. “Take care of him for me,” she said. “I don’t want to come back and see all my hard work undone.” Halt huffed and Abelard snorted as if to say, _you and me both_.

Next it was Alyss, who hugged Marian first. Marian wrapped her arms tightly around the woman who was the only mother figure she had ever known. She had been a comfort and confidant many times for her during her training, her clear-headedness and sensibility a compass for Marian to follow. “Stay safe,” she said. “And don’t worry about us. I’ll watch out for Will, make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble,” she teased. “This is for you,” she pulled away and handed Marian a small wrapped parcel. Glancing at Alyss with confusion, Marian untied the cloth to reveal a bracelet, a solid band of silver etched with the names of her closest friends and symbols of their station. “We all pitched in,” Alyss said, “everyone whose name is on there. Even if they don’t know what you’re doing they wish you well.”

Blinking away sudden tears she slipped the bracelet on her wrist. “Thank you Alyss. I’ll miss you,” she said quietly so no one else could hear.

“I’ll miss you too,” Alyss said and hugged her again. When they pulled apart Marian turned away and busied herself with Sky’s bridle. When she was herself again she looked up and noticed it was just her, Will, and the ponies left. The guards had given them space and Alyss and Halt had stepped back.

“I have a gift for you too,” Will said and handed her a familiar shaped object.

“Your old mandolin!” Marian said with a grin.

“But you have to practice if you’re going to play it half as well as I do,” he said with a smile.

“Yes, sir,” she said falling in to her old habit. Will shook his head.

“Marian, listen to me,” he said. “When this war is over, I will find you. I promise.”

Her delight faded at his statement. There was no need to say what they were both thinking out loud. _If we win_. Duncan had given strict orders that she was never to return unless a Ranger came for her first.

She looked up at Will, his brown eyes showing concern and pride at the same time. She didn’t know what to say to him, didn’t want to say goodbye. The idea she may never see him again, never have him tell her to get more firewood, to fetch more water, to work harder, to throw with her arm, not her wrist, to use her back not just her arms to shoot, sat like a cold lump in her stomach. She thought of him never correcting her shooting form, never telling her she succeeded with only a smile. Without a word Marian hugged him too, burying her face in his shoulder. When she let go, Will’s eyes were shining but she didn’t notice. She kept her eyes down, trying not to let him see her cry, and walked to Tug. “Watch over him,” she said. “Alyss is going to need all the help she can get.” Tug lowered his head over her shoulder.

_Always_ , he seemed to say.

She felt a sudden wave of fear for her friends, especially for Will and Halt. They would still be targeted by Jeren and his creatures. They would be in constant danger and there was nothing she could do for them. If they died she would never know.

Tug nudged her gently and Sky nickered behind her, like they were giving her the courage she needed to move. With a deep breath and a nod, Marian swung onto Sky. She couldn’t look back or she may never move forward. So she kept her eyes forward. The door was pulled open and beyond was only darkness. Tears burned in her eyes and knowing she couldn’t hold them back any longer she pulled up the hood of the mottled cloak that identified her as a Ranger just as much as the arrows on her back and the knives on her waist did. She clutched her bronze oak leaf again, the symbol of her identity and the only connection she had to her world, to her home, as she kicked Sky forward. She felt the tears spill over and roll down her cheeks and heard the door behind them slam shut. She and Sky were alone.

>

Marian lit the torch the guard had put into one of the packs not long after the door shut. They were riding on dirt and she hoped the tunnel would stay large enough for both her and Sky to get through. From what she could tell, it was a straight shot. The flickering firelight on the dirt wall of the tunnel lulled her into a daze and she lost track of time. At one point she was startled into alertness by the feeling of spider webs across her face and hands, even though she couldn't tell where they had come from. Sky shook her head and snorted. Her skin tingled for a few minutes afterwards and she was concerned she was having some sort of reaction, but the feeling died away and she forgot about it after a while. She didn’t notice right away when the light started to get a little bit brighter. It wasn’t until she saw the white spot of sunlight piercing the darkness that she realized they were nearing the end of the gateway.

“Well Sky, here goes nothing,” she said. The bright spot got bigger and bigger until she could make out some details from the world outside. When Ranger and pony finally emerged from the tunnel her suspicions were confirmed. They were in a forest. Huge trees towered above her and the air was heavy with a distinct sense of agelessness. From what she could tell of the light, it was high noon. “But who really knows?” she told Sky. “Everything could be different. I probably shouldn’t eat any wild berries or plants until I know for sure what they are.”

_You’re getting wise in your old age_ , Sky said with a snort and toss of her head. Marian decided to ignore that comment. When Sky decided to get smart with her it was better just to let her be.

“Might as well keep going. Let me just get some parchment out so I can keep track of where we go. So we can find our way back,” she added resolutely. They were coming back here, no question. She turned around and realized that the gateway on this end was a tree bigger than any she had ever seen. It was an oak tree and the opening was a large gash in the trunk of the tree. It was big enough for horse and rider to exit without difficulty. As she stared at it the air in front of the tree began to shimmer like hot air did in the middle of the desert. Marian blinked and the large opening in the tree transformed into a small scar that ran the length of the trunk.

She panicked, thinking the gateway had somehow closed behind her, and dismounted running up to the tree the moment her feet touched the ground. She touched the scar but her hand went right through and suddenly she could see the opening again. Step by step she backed up, staring as it transformed back into an innocuous scar. If she hadn’t have known about the tunnel she never would have looked twice.

Marian squared her shoulders and turned her back on the gateway. She couldn’t stay here forever, who knows how long it will take for Will or the other Rangers to come for her. Marian walked to Sky and rubbed the pony's nose before mounting up. “All right Sky, you pick. Where should we go?” Marian let go of the reins and Sky moved straight ahead, keeping the oak tree at their backs. It was as good a direction as any and Marian went with it. They rode in quiet, listening to the sounds of this alien forest that seemed so much like those at home. If Marian hadn’t have known better she would have thought she was still in Araluen. She had been expecting some great change or difference that would tell her she was in another world, but that wasn’t the case. She heard similar bird calls, saw similar trees and plants but there was always that subtle difference. In its own way, the similarity was more unsettling than any great difference would be.

“You know, people here probably don’t speak the same language,” she said to Sky. “What if they don’t speak at all? What if our coins don’t work?” Duncan had equipped her well in the monetary aspect but it was all in Araluen coin. “I’m starting to think this was a really bad idea.”

Sky looked back at her with one reproachful eye. “I know,” she sighed. “I’m just nervous. Don’t judge me.”

They rode in silence for a while, Marian’s eyes constantly observing her surroundings. They had an uneventful morning, but in the late afternoon Sky stomped her foot suddenly and flicked her ears to the left while they were walking. Slumping in the saddle, Marian made sure only her eyes moved deep beneath the hood of her cloak, scanning for the possible threat Sky had alerted her to.

There. A flash of movement where none should have been. She reached down to pat her pony, like she was soothing he,r when in reality Marian was telling Sky her warning had been noted. Marian kept track of her tail all through the afternoon because whoever it was seemed to content only to follow for the moment. Little did they know she would be prepared for them if they decided to do anything else.

Evening started to fall and Marian decided it would be good to set up camp. There was a stream nearby that was perfect. It was simple for a Ranger travelling alone. She put up the small tent and gathered just enough wood to get a fire going. She started water for a soup made from some dry food balls packed in her bags. She looked longingly at the bag of coffee beans Halt and Will had supplied her with but decided it would be better to wait. She didn’t know how long she would have to go without it once the bag was gone. After the fire was going steady and Sky had been unloaded and brushed, Marian walked in the other direction from where she noticed their follower was hiding. To the follower it would seem like she walked off into the woods, most likely for more firewood. To Marian, as soon as she left the circle of firelight, she matched her movements to the shadows and, trusting her Ranger cloak and training, moved silently to the other side of the camp and waited.

She didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later and a boy that looked to be seven or eight scrambled out of the bushes. He moved pretty quietly for a young boy, a skill that probably came from necessity. Sky brought her head up and snorted but sensing her master was nearby did nothing more. The boy ignored the pony and instead went straight to the saddlebag containing her food supplies.

He was so engrossed in the food and in keeping an eye out for her return from the other direction he didn’t notice Marian make her way behind him. Even if he had been paying attention he probably wouldn’t have noticed. Her ability in unseen movement was quite good and, out of her hearing, was speculated to eventually rival Gilan’s, a Ranger known for his superb unseen movement ability.

Marian decided not to take out her saxe or throwing knife. She merely spoke. “You should be a lot more careful about who you try to steal from, boy.” If anything told her she was in another world, this was it. Back home, anyone who knew the Ranger’s signature uniform wouldn’t dare to steal from them, even if said Ranger was only a lone apprentice.

The boy, oblivious up to now about his target’s return, jumped and dropped his loot. But before he could take off he felt a hand grab his wrist and then twist him around. He fell to the ground with a thump and then the pressure of a foot on his chest.

Marian grinned, knowing she was scaring the boy a little bit more than necessary by keeping her hood up. “At least work more on your timing,” she said pulling her hood back.

The boy’s fear turned to surprise, his brown eyes growing wide in a heavily freckled face. “But, you’re a girl!” he said in a strange accent that elongated the vowels and seemed to skip the ‘r’s.

“And you’re a boy,” Marian said, surprised, relieved, and a little puzzled that they could understand each other. “Now that we have those facts out of the way will you promise not to run if I let you up? I won’t hurt you. I may even share some of my supper, I’m afraid I made too much.” She hadn’t, but the boy looked starved. His limbs were bony and stuck out at angles too severe to simply be part of growing up. She noticed his hair appeared blonde under a heavy coating of dirt and sweat as he eyed her suspiciously.

“I promise,” he said. He had every intention of running the moment she let him up but just then the smell of cooking food wafted towards them and his stomach growled in protest. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if he stayed for a little bit.

She smiled, which turned her eyes from grey to a slightly bluer color and the boy blushed a little. “My name is Marian,” she said in an accent he had never heard before. “What’s yours?”

“Will,” he said as she pulled him to his feet. He never noticed the falter in her smile or the sorrow that passed over her face, quickly hidden, at the mention of his name. “Will Scarlet.”

“Well, pleased to meet you,” Marian said “even if you did try to steal from me.”

Will shrugged. He was hungry and would probably try to steal from other well-off travelers in the future. But he decided not to try it again with her. This time he saw the knives at her hip and he already knew how she could move. He didn’t know how quickly she could string an arrow to that longbow lying close to her but he could sense she was dangerous if she needed to be.

Marian eyed the boy and she noticed when his body relaxed and his eyes stopped checking out her food pack. She was confident he wouldn’t try to steal from her again. “So, Will let’s make a deal. You answer some of my questions and I give you some of my supper.”

“What kinds of questions?” he asked.

“I just want to know about where we are,” Marian said, fishing out another wooden bowl from her supplies.

“You mean Sherwood?” he asked, unable to keep his eyes from the bowl. He still couldn’t believe it when she handed it to him. It smelled awfully good. He took a sip and was surprised by the flavor. It was nothing like he had ever tasted, yet there were hints of familiarity. Marian suppressed a grin as he sucked down the soup. She wouldn’t get anything more out of him until he finished his food.

“What is Sherwood?” she asked. Will looked at her over his bowl like she was crazy.

“You’re in it,” he said. “Sherwood forest, one of the biggest in all of England. It’s where Robin Hood lives,” he added as if this was enough to satisfy her curiosity.

Marian smiled. “I don’t know who that is. I’m travelling and I’m a long way from home. Did you say England is the country?”

Will shook his head. “You’re strange, lady. Of course this is England.”

“And who rules here?” Marian asked. Perhaps she could go to them, tell her of their country’s situation and convince them she was someone with whom they could treat. Will looked longingly at the pot above the fire and Marian gave him the rest of their leftovers.

“King Richard,” he said after slurping down the rest of their supper. “But he’s away in the Holy Land. His brother Prince John is in charge now and the Sheriff runs Nottingham.” Marian detected something of fear and disgust in his tone when he talked about the prince and this sheriff person. She had no idea what the Holy Land was or why the King was there. She needed more information but she could wait. After all, she wasn’t on a time limit. Best to just let this lad be for now.

“One more question, Will,” she said. “Can you tell me which direction the nearest road is in?”

There was that look again, as if she was asking for information everyone knew. “That way,” he said pointing behind her. It was to the right of the direction she and Sky had been travelling but not too far out of the way. “If you leave in the morning you’ll get there before lunch.”

“Thank you. Would you like to sleep by the fire tonight?” She would keep watch on him, of course, and she had Sky to watch her back. She just didn’t like the thought of making a young boy travel off into the dark forest alone.

Will tensed again, ready to run. Nobody was ever this nice to him, nobody except one other person. It had to be a trap. “How do I know you won’t hurt me?”

Marian shrugged. “How do I know you won’t rob me?” she asked in response.

Will shook his head. “Not me. You’ll probably magic me or somethin’.”

A smile tugged at Marian’s mouth. “Not if you behave,” she said sternly. “I give you my word; no harm will come to you while you’re at my fire as long as you don’t cross me.” She held her hand out to him and after a few more moments of hesitation the boy shook it, sealing the deal.

Marian moved her packs into her small tent, situating herself in front so she could keep an eye on Will who had curled up by the dying fire. Sky had fallen asleep but not after she had thoroughly inspected their new guest. Will had seemed a might scared of the pony and he could tell there was some special bond between the cloaked lady and her horse that he didn’t want to mess with.

When Marian woke the next morning, Will was gone but next to Sky there was a small pile of berries. She smiled, taking note of the type of berry he had left so she would know that these ones, at least, were edible. She got rid of any evidence they had camped there and by the time they were packed up and headed out, nobody except those of the keenest observational skills would know someone had stayed the night in the forest there.

Marian was pleased to know Will had led them true when she and Sky stepped onto a well-traveled dirt road. The surface was packed hard from the passing of many carts, horses, and people and she was relieved to see a sign of civilization. At home she was most comfortable out in the field, away from lots of people. But in a strange world it was nice to know there was somewhere she could go.

She ate midday on the go, wondering where Will had gone off to so early in the morning. But thinking about Will got her to thinking about another Will, her friends, and her home. It felt like a fist tightened around her heart. Something could have happened to them and she would never know.

Sky’s quiet whinny brought her out of her gloom and Marian shook her head. “You’re right, girl,” she said. “It's not use moping. First thing’s first, we need to find a town and hopefully get a map.”

Just then, both of them noticed the sound of approaching riders at the same time. In a practiced move, Marian swung off of Sky’s back and led her into the brush on the side of the rode. With a signal, Marian told Sky to lie down and hide. She used her cloak to blend into the background, having decided early on it would be best at first to avoid travelers until it was on her own terms.

The riders slowed as they neared her hiding place and Marian got nervous, though outwardly she was completely still. They were dressed in a uniform and their horses had been ridden hard. Both the men and the animals were breathing heavily.

“Dammit!” one of them snapped. “We almost had them.”

“I’m sorry sir,” another man said. His face was hidden by a helm but the way he held himself signaled to Marian that he was afraid. “I thought I had the shot.”

“You _thought_?” the first one rounded on the man, his dark eyes flashing with anger. He didn’t wear a helm so Marian could see his face well enough. It was long and narrow and he had white blond hair pulled back into a queue. “You’re not here to think!” he yelled. “This was our shot. The Sheriff will have your head when we get back for making us loose Hood and his men, mark my words.”

Marian almost felt bad for the other man, and she wondered who this ‘Hood’ was. If they were outlaws or criminals then she needed to be a lot more careful about her travels through Sherwood. She hoped little Will was safe.

“Let’s go,” the blonde man barked and then kicked his horse into a gallop once more. The five other men, who had watched the exchange silently followed and the one in trouble reluctantly urged his horse to a gallop. Marian waited until the sounds of their passage had faded for a good five minutes or so and then she moved out of the brush. Sky rolled herself up as soon as her master moved and they were on their way once more. _It's probably good we are going in the opposite direction._ Marian thought to herself. It looked like they spelled trouble, and she didn't want to run into any trouble until she knew more about what was going on here.


	4. Archer Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I'm in the midst of finals week so its been slow going on the writing. But here is a longer chapter for you all. Enjoy!

It had been a couple of days and finally she was coming across some signs of civilization. That morning she had decided to dip into her store of coffee, so she was in a good mood for the rest of the day. Just before lunch she noticed a sign at a fork of the road and decided to turn on the right fork, which indicated the shortest distance to a place to stay.

When she rode in to a town called Locksley, Marian noticed the run-down state of all the houses in the area. The people looked hungry and sad, and many glanced at her with hostile suspicion. That was one thing she was used to, being a Ranger’s apprentice, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

“Excuse me,” she said, riding up to a man who was hoeing a small garden. He looked up at her approach, gripping the hoe tightly and peering at her over his makeshift fence. “Could you tell me where the nearest inn is?”

For a moment she thought he was going to ignore her. But then he loosened his grip and rested his arm on the handle of his hoe. “You ain’t from here, are you miss?” he asked.

“No, sir,” she said. “I’m travelling through and was looking for a place to stay.” The man nodded and Marian noticed a couple pairs of wide, young eyes staring at her from the house windows behind him.

“Go down the road a bit and take the second left,” he said. “George and Lila will set you straight. Run a nice, clean establishment, they do, even with the state things are in. But watch yourself miss, strangers aren’t taken too kindly in these parts nowadays.”

Marian smiled and fished in her bag for a couple of copper coins. “For your trouble,” she said handing them to the man who stared at her in surprise. Then she kicked Sky and followed the man’s directions to a small, two-story building called “The Woodsman.”

“Well, look at that Sky,” she muttered quietly to her pony. “Not quite a Ranger, but we’ve been mistaken for woodsmen before.”

She left Sky by the door, pushing back her hood as she walked inside. The main room was fairly empty, only a few regular customers sat at the tables talking quietly. They all looked up when she entered, but Marian continued to the back and strode up to the bar and the man behind it. “Excuse me,” she said. “I’m looking for George or Lila? I’d like a room for the next few nights, and a place for my horse to stay if you have it.”

The man blinked in surprise at her. He was big and bearded but had a kind face with lines around his eyes that indicated he had fallen on hard times. He didn’t quite know what to make of this cloaked stranger, a woman no less, who walked around with weapons at her hip and arrows on her back. Her voice was strange, but not unpleasant and she seemed young for someone who moved with that much confidence.

“I—I’m George. We might have a room available. We don’t have stables, but we do have a shed your horse can stay in overnight,” he said. “But don’t you want to know the cost?”

“Will this do?” she put down a few gold coins on the counter top. “I’d also like some supper if you have that.”

George stared at the coins. He had never seen ones like them before. The face of the man on the coin was unfamiliar and so was the crest. But gold was gold, and in times like these he would take what he could get. “We have a deal,” he said. Marian smiled at the man and then turned to sit in one of the many empty booths. She situated herself so that she sat in the back corner, facing the entrance so she may observe without being observed. A young boy came out a few moments later, bringing bread and a bowl of food. Marian could see the steam wafting off of it and her stomach growled.

“Thank you,” she told the boy kindly. He ducked his head and mumbled something, quickly retreating. She took her time eating. Now that she wasn’t moving anymore and she had a solid plan for shelter for the next few nights, thoughts of Araluen crowded into her head. Marian did her best to push them away, to think about anything else, but it was difficult.

By the time she had finished her supper, the few patrons that had been there had left to go back home. The hearth on the far wall to her left was cold and she could see only a meager pile of wood next to it. There were four tables spaced around the floor and benches and booths lined the wall on her right where she was sitting. If she looked over her left shoulder she could see George still wiping away at the mugs behind the bar counter, which was worn and chipped but looked otherwise clean. Directly behind her was a set of stairs that led up to the guest rooms, where she would be sleeping. But she didn’t feel like sleeping at the moment. Besides, more information was always good.

Marian got up from her seat, taking her dishes with her, and migrated to the bar. “Mind if I join you?” she asked cordially. George looked up from his cleaning without bothering to hide is interest.

“Not at all,” he said. “Don’t get many visitors around here, especially ones who pay for their supper.”

Marian smiled. “Well it was a wonderful supper. What was in the stew?”

“My wife’s recipe,” he said, glad she didn’t notice that they had to water it down a bit. Or, if she did, she didn’t critique it. “Some carrots, a few onions and potatoes, and a few chunks of chicken. What we could spare anyway.”

She nodded sympathetically. “I noticed the state of some of these buildings on my way through. I’ve been travelling a long way,” she explained watching George carefully to gauge his reaction. “What happened here?”

From the way he tensed and gripped the handle of the mug he was holding Marian could tell he was afraid. Even though they were the only ones in the inn at the moment his eyes looked around for listeners. For all he knew, she could be a spy trying to root out treasonous talk.

“We support the King in the Holy Land,” George started out and Marian nodded. “It’s just difficult to keep up with the taxes is all.”

“Who is lord here?” she asked. “Surely he or she can help a little?” There was a pause in his movements and Marian detected some resentment there.

“These lands belong to the Sheriff now that the old lord is dead,” George said stiffly as if repeating something he had heard many times before.

“What is he like?” Marian asked, taking a sip of her water. The lines around George’s eyes tightened and she thought she had received her answer.

“Will you be needing anything else, miss?” he asked her politely. Marian realized it was probably time to back off the questioning. His reactions where answer enough, for now.

“Oh, no,” she said. “Thank you for speaking with me, it’s just been a lonely journey so far.” Marian smiled and the man relaxed. It was easier here to be friendly and open, since no one knew what her mottled cloak meant. She watched as the boy who served her dinner slipped out from behind the bar to wash off the empty tables. “Is that your son?” she asked, genuinely curious. “He looks very much like you.”

George beamed with pride. “My boy, Joseph. He turned thirteen only a fortnight ago. He’s a good lad.”

Marian felt a pang for the fatherly love she saw in George’s face. She had never known her parents. The only thing she ever knew was Redmont, and then the Ranger life. _Stop it_ , she told herself. _Now is not the time to get all weepy_.

“George,” she said, shaking off the mood. “Now that I think about it, is there a place where I could get a map of the country? I would like to know where I’m going.”

George chewed the inside of his cheek. He liked this girl, she was friendly and one of the few clearly wealthy people who actually paid him. “I think I can get one for you. I’ll send Joseph on up the road a ways, to Nottingham, for ya. It should only take a few days, and you’re welcome to stay.”

Marian fished in her purse once again and brought out a silver coin. “For the cost. If it costs any more by the end I can pay you that as well. And if there is anything you need help with around the inn while I’m here, just let me know. I like to keep busy.”

George stared in surprise at the glittering coin as Marian slipped off of her stool and walked upstairs. It took a moment for him to get his voice working. “Last room on the right miss!” he called after her. Marian turned and waved in thanks, disappearing upstairs. George pocketed the coin with a lighter heart. He hadn’t been this hopeful in a long time.

  


* * *

  


Jeren stared at the hand-drawn map in front of him, covered in markings that symbolized his own forces and King Duncan's forces. The meager lamplight in his tent cast dancing shadows across the parchment and he had to squint to see the markings, but he could live with that. Inadequate lighting was just one of the small prices of living in the field, especially when you’re fighting your own monarch. At that point many of the comforts of an easy life are long gone.

Though he analyzed the distribution of his forces carefully, what really dominated his focus was his prize between the royal palace and the eastern coast, the gateway in the middle of Hackham Heath. On the map it was nothing more than a small drawing of a tower. But in his head, it was the shining beacon he was aiming for. King Duncan’s rejection still burned like a coal in the pit of his stomach. His discovery could make Araluen the most powerful country in the world, in maybe multiple worlds. And it would have been he who would usher Araluen into a new age. But his vision and Duncan’s just didn’t quite mix…and some choice words and plans he wanted to implement led to his banishment. _My unjust banishment,_ he thought bitterly. 

His hazel eyes glittered in frustration as he looked at the line of his forces. He had started on the border between Picta and Araluen and moved south quickly, but now they had stalled. And there was one main reason for their lack of advancement. When he and his men had met their first major resistance, he had realized the best way to win this war was to get rid of one of Duncan’s most effective weapons.

A shuffling and snorting alerted Jeren to the presence of one of his prized creatures and he looked up. Fangs shined in the firelight and a large, hairy figure entered the tent and moved along the edges, in the shadows.

“Is it done?” Jeren asked. The creature laughed in a way that sounded more like a growl. Jeren smiled coldly, bringing out a list of names from his pocket and crossing the next one off. He was making progress, almost halfway down the list. Just as he was about to dismiss his assassin for a job well done, there was a polite cough outside the tent and then a harried, exhausted man poked his head in.

“My lord, there is news,” he said, panting. Alfred was his steward who followed him into exile. Not out of any sense of loyalty, but for the promise of wealth Jeren had given him. Jeren waved him in and Alfred eyed the creature in the shadows with concern. But he couldn’t refuse an order so he walked quickly and knelt in front of his lord.

“Someone went through the gate,” he said.

Jeren paled, his skin contrasting with his dark red hair. “Who?” he growled. The bastards had sent someone across, after Duncan had said he would never do such a thing. The gate was his discovery and it should be his alone to use. Whoever they sent through was going to pay.

Alfred swallowed nervously. “Will Treaty’s apprentice. The girl Ranger.”

_So they’re running now, are they? ___He thought with a small sense of triumph. If they were sending apprentices away that meant they were worried. Well it won’t help them. And if the famous Will Treaty was trying to keep his pet apprentice safe, well, Jeren wanted to show him just how impossible that would be. He looked up at the creature still in the tent, waiting for his orders. “Are you ready to travel again?”

“As soon as you want me to, Master,” it grunted at him, the voice rough and grating.

“Follow the girl,” he said. “You know what to do. No matter how far they run I will wipe them out. To the very last apprentice.” The creature bared his teeth in a frightening grin full of malice and lust for the hunt. It bowed and then left the tent, making a strange shuffling sound on its way out. Jeren dismissed Alfred soon after, and sat in his makeshift chair, musing. It wouldn’t be long before the Rangers of Araluen were only legends lost to time. Then, soon, the country would be his for the taking and he would prove to Duncan that the King should have listened to him. And the other world would be waiting.

  


* * *

  


Marian sat in her room, writing down a report of her journey and trying to remember everything that had passed. Observing a whole new world was a large task and she knew Will at least would want things written down for later. She had been helping George and Lila out with little things around their inn, trying to keep her mind and body busy. But at the moment there was nothing for her to do, so she figured it would be a good time to get started on making notes. She was wearing the one dress she had brought with her, since it felt almost like a day off for her. It was a beautiful lilac color but simply made—a birthday gift from Alyss. She figured she didn’t need to go in her Ranger’s outfit the whole time and it seemed to disconcert the villagers a little. Not that she cared much, but she didn’t want to make trouble for herself.

She was just finishing up with the most recent events when she heard a commotion outside. Multiple voices were yelling, some in fear and some in anger, and horses were snorting. She heard Sky’s familiar whinny and that brought her to her feet. Marian got up from the small table and opened her window, which faced the road. She saw a group of men in uniform and the blonde man she had noticed on her way to Locksley. He sat atop his horse looking bored while another soldier was dragging Joseph out of the inn by his arm. Joseph was struggling and Lila was crying.

“You can’t take him!” George shouted at the man.

“You can’t pay your taxes,” the blonde man replied. “This is how you make up your debt. Your son will serve the Sheriff and make up what you owe.”

“He’s just a boy,” Lila pleaded, clutching at the man who was taking her son. He shook her off and Lila stumbled back. George ran to his wife and wrapped his arms around her. “Please, he’s all we have,” she cried.

“That makes no difference,” the man said coldly. Marian didn’t hear what George said next. Watching the man drag Joseph from his parents had made her cheeks burn with anger. No one had the right to take a child away from his home like that! Without thinking about it she grabbed her money pouch off the table and raced down the stairs, her unbound hair flying behind her. She charged through the empty dining room and out the open door, pushing past George and Lila. Joseph was having his hands tied and trying not to cry, while other villagers had gathered around to watch the spectacle, many of them glaring hatred at the cool and merciless man on the horse.

“Enough!” Marian shouted. Everyone froze as a stunned silence descended and the blond man searched the crowd, looking for the source of the interruption his gaze finally rested on her with surprise. “How dare you steal a child from his home?” she continued, walking deliberately towards the man. “Let him go.” She was at his horse now, glaring up into his face with no hint of backing down.

“And you are…?” he asked. The man hid is astonishment well, but he couldn’t seem to look away from those blazing eyes of steel.

“Marian Harwood,” she stated as if that name meant something.

“My lady, you are clearly not from around here so I will overlook your interference,” he stated. “But this is the law of the Sheriff. If the family can’t pay their taxes in coin then they must compensate it with something else.”

Marian bristled at his condescending tone, but a voice in the back of her mind that sounded a lot like Will kept her from showing the man just how dangerous she really was. Better to let him think she was just a rich noble woman with sympathy for the downtrodden. Never mind that she had ignored that voice of caution when she yelled at him in the first place. Will was always saying her impetuousness would get her into trouble.

“Despicable. I expect more honor from a man in uniform,” she said. “Clearly this family has given you all they have.”

“They must follow the rules like any other citizen,” he said.

“And these rules are just?” she asked him.

The man shrugged. “They are the law set forth by the Sheriff and Prince John.”

She clenched her fists. Marian realized there was only one way she was going to be able to save Joseph if she didn't want to be arrested.

“How much do they owe?” she asked.

The man laughed. “You cannot think to—“

“How much?” her words cut through his sentence like ice. For the first time he could remember he let an interruption go, unwilling to face her down.

“20 gold pieces,” he said. There was a rumble through the crowd and a sharp gasp from Lila. Marian didn’t dare look away as she took out her money pouch and counted out the sum. Marian raised one eyebrow as she handed over the coins, letting the man know how outrageous the sum was and showing him she didn’t care one whit.

“I believe that covers it,” she said. “Now, let Jospeh go,” Marian ordered the man tying Jospeh’s hands. The blonde man’s face turned red as the soldier listened to her without waiting for an order from him, but he couldn’t keep the boy now; not after she paid. Belatedly he signaled the soldier but the boy was already free and running back to his parents. Marian raised her chin, a silent challenge to him, which he decided to pass on for now.

“I’d watch your purse my lady,” he said as his men mounted up. The inn had been their last stop for collection in Locksley and they were ready to go home. “That bleeding heart of yours will bleed it dry.”

Marian smiled at him and curtsied quite prettily. “I thank you for your concern good sir,” she said. “But trust me when I say, I have no need for it.”

Tongue-tied, the man kicked his horse and galloped away not looking forward to telling the Sheriff he had been bested by a woman who was clearly not from here and did not know her place. It would be best for him if he found out more about this stranger with eyes like silver. Best for him, indeed.

* * *

Robin sat well-concealed on a roof of an abandoned house that stood on the outskirts of Locksley. Little John was next to him, snoring, but Robin knew he was probably the most alert of any of them. The man was much older than Robin, old enough to be his father, and one of the most important members of his group. In fact, it was Little John that had really helped them ban together and put up an organized resistance to the corruption spreading through England. But when Robin first asked him to lead John only smiled and said “boy, I know a leader when I see one and believe me, I ain’t it. I’m more of the ‘tell me where to swing and I’ll hit it’ types. You’re doing just fine where you are.” Robin was glad he had stayed on. Most of the missions couldn’t have been pulled off without his help.

A birdcall pierced the air, one not native to these parts, and Robin answered back. That was probably Alan with the signal that Guy and his men were nearing the end of their rounds. Robin had gotten information they would be coming back to Locksley today and he wanted to hit Sir Guy’s group as soon as they left.

“Robin!” somebody hissed up at him. Robin leaned over the side of the roof and noticed young Will Scarlet waving frantically. “Something’s happening at The Woodsman.” Robin frowned, taking only a moment to decide to get a closer look. He signaled to Will and then hit John on the arm.

“Let’s go,” he said. “We’ve got ourselves some excitement.”

John grumbled as he rolled over and they both scaled down the house with practiced ease. Robin pulled his green yeoman’s hood up to hide his face. Though his straight, sun-lightened brown hair and earth brown eyes were common in these parts, his face was too recognizable for him to just waltz right out into the open.

As they neared the inn, Robin noticed the crowd that had gathered and he could see Guy sitting atop his horse all prideful. When they got closer, spreading out into the mess of people, he heard Lila pleading with the soldiers and he clenched his jaw at the grief in her voice. “He’s just a boy. Please, he’s all we have.”

“That makes no difference.” Robin would have known Guy of Gisborne’s voice anywhere. He hated that voice. As he got closer, Little John a few paces behind him, he realized one of the soldiers was dragging young Joseph forcibly out of the house. Robin’s hands tightened on his bow as he saw the fear in the boy’s eyes. He knew Joseph; they had played together as children even though there was a seven year difference between the two of them. Joseph had idolized him, even before Robin of Locksley became Robin Hood. There was no way he was going to let Guy take the boy away.

Robin was just about to put an arrow to his bow when John’s large paw-like hand clamped down on his arm. “Easy lad,” he murmured. Robin opened his mouth to argue when he saw John nod towards the door and he almost dropped his bow in astonishment.

A woman burst through the door, all fury, skirts, and curls. “Enough!” she shouted and Robin couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. As she marched up to Guy and demanded Joseph be released Robin could have laughed. She wasn’t afraid of him, Robin realized. “Stupid,” he muttered but inside he admired her spirit. Sir Guy wasn’t used to people not being afraid of him.

“That’s her,” Will whispered from beside him, his eyes wide. “That’s Marian, from the forest.”

Robin raised his eyebrows. So that was the mysterious woman from Sherwood. Will was his best thief and she had surprised him like he was a butterfingered pickpocket just out of training. Will had come back to camp with this story about a magic woman in a cloak, insisting that she was real. He hadn’t put much stock in the boy’s story, but now he was interested. He heard a murmur spread through the crowd and Little John glowered. “There is no way they owe 20 gold pieces,” he muttered. Robin’s heart sank. If Guy was asking for that amount they would have to stage a rescue further on down the road. They hadn’t prepared for that. But when Marian pulled out the sum without a blink Robin was stunned. Who would give up 20 gold pieces, just like that, for someone they didn’t know?

When Marian curtsied, Robin treasured the look on Guy’s face even though he knew it spelled trouble for her later on. He realized that she had practiced the curtsy before and was used to moving with the nobility. Will had told Robin she carried weapons, but he didn’t see any on her now. This time, though, he was inclined to believe the kid. As Guy rode away Robin discretely signaled his men who had also made their way into the crowd to fall back. They had to regroup and plan their next move and Robin was curious about the stranger. She had given him a lot to think about.

* * * 

Marian waited outside until the blond man and his men had disappeared and the rest of the villagers had dispersed. Lila was hugging Joseph as they went inside. When Marian turned around George was looking at her with a gratitude that made her uncomfortable.

“How can we ever repay you?” he asked.

Marian smiled. “You’ve given me shelter, and you’re getting me a map which is more trouble for you. That’s payment enough.”

George shook his head. “The rest of your stay is on the house,” he said. “I don’t know what I would have done if they had taken my boy. Thank you.” She could see the sheen of tears in his eyes and his voice had a hitch in it. Marian shifted, unused to the open display of emotion.

“It’s nothing,” she said. “Anyone would have done it if they could.” George was certain that wasn’t the case but he didn’t argue with her. Instead he ushered her back inside. “Who was that man?” Marian asked.

“Sir Guy of Gisborne,” George answered with distaste. “The Sheriff’s right hand man.”

“What will you do? He doesn’t seem the type to give up easily.” She was sure this wasn’t the end of it, and she couldn’t stay in Locksley forever but neither would she leave Joseph and his family to fend for themselves again.

“We’ll send him to my sister’s place,” Lila answered meeting them inside. Joseph was gone, presumably to pack. “She lives far enough away that the Sheriff’s rules don’t reach her. He’ll be safe there.”

“Then I’ll only be staying until the map arrives,” Marian said. “I don’t want to burden you further and if Joseph will be safe I should continue with my travels.”

“Please, stay as long as you need,” Lila said. “Nobody except Robin Hood has ever helped us so much, thank you.”

“Who?” Marian asked. Hood. She had heard that name before, Sir Guy had said his name. She thought he was a criminal but Lila spoke his name with the reverence reserved for heroes.

“Robin Hood,” Lila said. “He was the son of the master here, before the father died in an accident and Robin got himself outlawed speaking out against one of the Sheriff’s laws. Now he helps us, when he can, and others that are going hungry from the taxes.”

Marian nodded but was reserving judgment on this Robin Hood. Lila and George seemed like good, honest people and if they supported an outlaw there was obviously something more going on here. She excused herself to let them prepare for Joseph’s departure and retreated to her rooms to write up some more of her report. When she opened the door she stopped short, staring at the man sitting on her window ledge, one leg swinging on the outside of the building and him looking as if he were in his own home. Freckles were sprinkled across a strong nose and high cheekbones, slightly hidden by his tanned skin. The man flicked his brown hair out of his eyes and she noticed the mischievous half-smile. He was dressed in greens and browns, colors perfect for moving through the woods, and he carried a recurved bow. On his back a quiver bristled with arrows.

Marian crossed her arms, slightly thrilled and very much curious but hiding it all. “I should probably inquire as to why a strange man is occupying my room.”

Robin grinned fully and swung his leg inside. “I wanted to meet you,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow impervious to the charm shining off of him. “And I suppose going to the front door was too much of an effort. Much easier to clamber up the side of a building."

“I couldn’t use the front door,” he said. “Don’t you know who I am?”

She cocked her head as if trying to recall where she might have seen or heard of him. “I’m afraid I don’t have the slightest idea.” She hid her amusement at the disappointment on his face. No need for him to know she could easily guess who this might be. She didn’t want him getting a big head.

Robin swept his arm out to the side and bowed in a most exaggerated manner. “Robin Hood, at your service milady.”

“I don’t think I want a criminal in my service,” she said drily, still standing in the doorway.

Robin straightened. “So you have heard of me then?” he laughed.

“Only a few moments ago,” she pointed out. “And I’m not sure what I think of you, yet.”

Robin stepped further in to the room. “Well, why don’t I help you,” he said with wink.

Marian suppressed a snort. “Oh, believe me. You already are. Now,” she slipped her throwing knife out of the hidden slit in her skirt, an addition Alyss had helped her with a few years ago. Robin’s eyebrows raised as he watched her flip it through the air and catch it with ease. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?”

He raised his hands in mock defeat and stepped back towards the window again. “What you did was quite brave. Stupid,” he added “but brave. I really did want to meet you, Marian. I came to warn you though, you should leave Locksley soon. Gisborne will not be happy when he comes back. Most likely, he will be to take you to meet the Sheriff.”

“I haven’t done anything illegal, correct?” Marian pointed out. “And besides I need to speak to your King. The Sheriff could put me in contact with him.”

Robin’s face darkened and Marian caught a glimpse of something else beneath his fun and flirty exterior. “You don’t know anything about him. Look, clearly you are not from here.” Marian shrugged; she wasn’t trying to pass as if she was. “So listen when I say it would be best for you to disappear.”

“Thank you for the warning,” she said. “But I can take care of myself.”

Robin shook his head. This girl’s stubbornness would probably get her killed. She wasn’t his responsibility and if he was being honest with himself, which was rare, he wasn’t really sure why he was here in the first place. The only thing he knew was that she intrigued him. “Believe me, don’t believe me, I don’t care. But remember I tried to help you.”

“And I thank you,” she said. “Now if you don’t mind, I have some things I would like to take care of.”

“Anything I can help with?” he teased, the mask back in place. Marian rolled her eyes.

“Out, archer boy,” she said.

“But it’s a two story drop,” Robin said in mock despair.

“You climbed up here, shouldn’t be too hard to get down. I can help you get started,” she suggested.

“Ouch,” Robin said. “Perhaps a kiss to give me courage?”

Marian pretended to think it over. Then she walked closer to him and told him to close his eyes. She kissed her fingertips and then, smiling, smacked him on the cheek. Robin’s eyes flew open. “What was that for?” he asked.

“You were asking for it,” she answered with a grin. Despite herself she was starting to like him. “Now, please leave or I’m going to do something drastic.”

“What, call the authorities?” Robin asked as he swung himself onto the window ledge.

“Rob, Rob, Rob,” she said. “I don’t need any authorities.” Then she shoved him lightly on the back and he dropped down, sending up a spurt of dust as he landed and rolled in the dirt.

He stood up and dusted himself off, looking wounded. “Farewell, fair maid Marian,” he called. “We shall see each other again.” Then he ran off, disappearing behind one of the buildings and returning to Sherwood.

“We’ll see,” she muttered as she closed the shutters firmly, unable to keep the smile from her face.


	5. Welcome to Sherwood

It was a week since Robin’s visit and the map still hadn’t arrived. Heeding the outlaw’s warning about Gisbourne, Marian made sure she was packed and ready to go at a moment’s notice. She continued to wear her Ranger’s uniform instead of her dress, in case she needed to leave without warning. Sunday was a day of rest of George and Lila, so Marian was sitting with them in their common room, chatting about anything that came to mind. It may have seemed inconsequential to the inn owners, but to Marian every little bit helped her learn about the world she now lived in. 

The three of them were just finishing up breakfast, a subdued affair now that Joseph had left for his aunt’s house, when the door to the inn opened with a bang. Startled, Marian turned to look at the newcomer and realized the arrival wasn’t new at all. 

“Good morning my lady,” Sir Guy said walking briskly to the back of the inn. Marian stood up, trying to hide the nervous flips her stomach was performing. She attempted to keep her mind calm and her hands steady. Marian was confident she would be able to escape if need be, there was no reason to fear, right? 

“Sir Guy, what a surprise,” she said, relieved that her voice didn't shake. “I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.” 

Sir Guy eyed George and Lila, who flanked Marian on either side. “I told the Sheriff of your…generosity and he simply had to meet you. I volunteered to collect you.” He drew a rolled up piece of parchment out of his coat pocket. “I also met a man on the way here. He carried a package for you. I took the liberty of delivering it myself, seeing as I was on my way here anyway,” he said with a smile that made her feel like oil coated her skin. 

She accepted the parchment with a gracious nod and realized it was the map she had been waiting for. It wouldn’t be too hard for her to believe that the delivery of this map had been delayed. “Thank you,” she said. “But Sir Guy, I must point out that I am not an object to be collected. I will happily accompany you to Nottingham to see the Sheriff.” 

Gisbourne clenched his jaw, but he didn’t respond as Marian shook George’s hand and kissed Lila on the cheek. “Thank you both for your hospitality,” she said with a genuine smile. 

George frowned at Gisbourne. “You come back and visit now, you hear?” he told her, without breaking his stare. 

“Only if I’ll be able to have some more of Lila’s meat pies,” Marian said, grabbing her cloak. 

George chuckled and Lila beamed. “Please follow me,” Gisbourne interrupted tersely. 

“As soon as I pack my things, Sir Guy,” she said and before he could protest she breezed up the stairs. It took a few minutes for her to get her things in order and brought down to the yard where Daniel, the boy George and Lila asked to take care of guests’ horses, stood in the yard holding Sky. The pony was saddled and ready, standing next to a group of mounted soldiers. Sky brought her head up when Marian came to her, looking her in the eyes as if to ask _What did you do now?_

“Nothing,” Marian murmured, rubbing her pony’s forehead. “At least, nothing Will or anyone else wouldn’t have done.” 

Sir Guy cleared his throat and she shared a look with Sky before mounting up, her supplies all tied up behind her and ready to go. The weapons at her side gave her comfort. But as she looked at the soldiers surrounding her, loneliness pierced her heart like a lance and she struggled to breathe. It passed after a moment but she suddenly wished so fiercely that Will was there with her, or Halt or even Alyss. Nobody would dare to question or mess with them. They gave her confidence because she could trust them to know what to do. Now she was completely and utterly on her own, and it felt like she was drowning. 

She straightened her shoulders and smiled at Guy, hiding all her fears behind a mask of unconcern. Her bow was strung and her arrows were within easy reach. The best advantage she had was that Guy and his men had no idea how skilled she was. They didn’t even seem to register the fact that she carried weapons. _Well_ , she thought. _That is going to be their undoing_. She would see this Sheriff and figure out what the fuss was all about, but if the situation became dangerous she would be prepared. 

“Lead the way,” she said. 

Their trip through the forest was made in silence. Marian was placed smack in the middle of a circle of horses and men, none of which would converse with her. But the one she was most interested in was Sir Guy. He rode directly in front and she could feel cold anger roll off him in waves. He needed to be in control. She had figured out that much. She had tried a few times to engage in conversation but he refused to answer in more than one word syllables. They were riding at a leisurely pace and the soldiers’ attention on the forest was only cursory, they must not be expecting any attack. Marian briefly wondered if Robin Hood knew who was going through his forest and how he would react to such a spectacle. 

As they rounded a bend in the road Marian and her escort ran into an overturned cart. Two men were arguing in front of it, one standing on the ground and waving his arms about while the other clambered over the remains of their broken transport. Marian thought the one standing on the ground was the largest man she had ever seen. No one ever fit the description “bear-like” as much as he did. He had a thick beard and a black mane of hair. His chest was deep and his voice carried like thunder. He held a big oak staff in one hand and was giving the other man a severe verbal lashing. 

“You blundering idiot!” he was yelling. “I told you a million times, check the axel before we leave. But no, your lazy ass was too concerned with chasing a pretty face.” 

The other, smaller figure mumbled something back. Marian frowned. Even though the hood was up there was something familiar… 

“Dammit,” she breathed. 

“Get this cart off the road!” Sir Guy ordered, pulling their group up to a stop. “You’re holding up important business.” 

The big man turned and bowed, multiple times. “I’m sorry milord, so sorry. We’ll get this outta your way of course. Get to it boy!” he snapped. Marian was glaring at the figure, who kept his head down as he clambered off the top of the overturned cart, trying to signal him to let them go. 

Sir Guy was focused on the man, who kept babbling about his son and how he was ever so sorry to be stuck with the likes of him, but what choice did he have in times like these? No offense to your lordship, of course, they all had to do their duty to Prince John and King Richard but good-for-nothing layabouts just made doing that duty so much harder. 

The “layabout” was moving the cart off the road when his hood started to slip and Marian closed her eyes in defeat. “Hold it,” Guy snapped. He urged his horse forward, peering closely. She noticed the minute recognition hit him and Guy drew his sword, the metal singing. “Stop right there, Hood.” 

There was a chorus of more metal as the men around her drew their swords too. Robin threw back his hood and grinned. “Good to see you again, Gisbourne,” he said. “I felt bad about the way our last meeting ended and had wanted to make it up to you.” 

“You’re a fool Hood,” Guy said. “We don’t have anything for you to steal today. Looks like you risked your neck for nothing.” 

Robin just cocked an eyebrow while the big man grasped his staff with both hands and moved into a fighting stance. Around them was a rustle of leaves and branches as more hooded strangers rose up out of the forest, weapons trained on the soldiers. Marian silently applauded their camouflage skills, though she reserved judgment on unseen movement. It was one thing to hide and wait for an ambush and another to follow someone and move through the forest completely undetected. 

“Not about the money this time,” Robin said. “Let the girl go, and you and your friends can be on your merry way.” 

Guy turned to her, surprise clear on his face. Though she had been a pain, he honestly had not expected her to be in league with outlaws. “You’ve made a huge mistake, girl,” he said. “Throwing in your lot with these criminals.” 

“Believe me,” Marian answered, staring steadily at him. “I had nothing to do with this.” 

Guy looked around and realized he had been outmaneuvered. He clenched his jaw in frustration but sheathed his sword anyway, the hilt snapping against the scabbard in fury. The foreign girl was more stupid than he had thought, and now she was lying to him. “You won’t get away with this,” he said. 

“I think you’ve said that before,” Robin quipped. Both Marian and Guy glared at him, but she kept Sky still as the Sheriff’s men took off. Once the dust had settled the atmosphere relaxed and the strangers in the woods take off their hoods. The big man lounged against the cart, which turned out not to be broken, and smiled. 

“Well that went pretty smooth,” he said. 

“I think you were having a little bit too much fun yelling at me, John” Robin replied. 

“What in Gorlog’s name do you think you were doing?!” Marian yelled, dismounting. 

Robin blinked in surprise, not quite understanding what she said. “Rescuing you,” Robin said as if it were obvious. “You didn’t listen to me and look where it got you.” 

“You idiot,” she muttered. “It got me right where I wanted!” 

“What?” 

“I didn’t need to be rescued,” she snapped at him. “I told you, I can take care of myself. I wanted to see the Sheriff, I needed more information on him. And now, thanks to your useless act of heorism they think I’m an outlaw too.” 

“Well—that’s—that doesn’t matter,” Robin sputtered. John raised a hand to his mouth, covering a smile. 

“I was doing perfectly fine, on my own, as a foreign traveler passing through. And now I cannot get to the people in charge without being arrested because you decided to associate me with your gang,” Marian continued. Then she whirled on one of the men she had seen sidling up to Sky. “One step closer and I shoot an arrow through your hand.” 

The man stopped and looked nervously at the horse who was eyeing him with more intelligence than he was used to seeing in an animal. Of course, Marian wasn’t really going to shoot him, but her anger was real enough and he didn’t need to know she was bluffing. Sky could take care of herself as well. 

Little John chuckled to himself. He had never seen anyone treat Robin this way and he had never seen the lad this flustered. It was good for him, he decided. He liked this lass. 

“Thanks to your dramatic rescue, I am now branded as an outlaw,” Marian explained like she was talking to a six your old. “I don’t have anywhere else to go, or I will be put in prison.” 

“Here’s a thought,” Robin said, not liking where this was headed. He had thought he was doing a good thing, and here she was berating him for it. “Go home.” He didn’t notice Marian flinch at the word home, but Little John did. 

“You don’t know anything about me, Robin Hood, or you would know that isn’t an option. I never asked for rescuing.” 

“And you don’t know anything about us!” Robin replied, getting irritated. The men around him gave each other uncomfortable glances, not sure what do. “If you did you wouldn’t have pulled that little stunt back at Locksley and you would be a lot more worried about what the Sheriff could do to you.” 

“Oh, and you wouldn’t have done the same exact thing I did?” she asked, crossing her arms. 

Robin gritted his teeth. “It’s completely different. You know nothing about what is going on here.” 

Marian was about to reply when she heard Sky stamp her foot in warning. Marian turned and noticed her pony’s head had come up, her ears perked forward. Marian scanned the forest surroundings, searching for whatever had alerted the Ranger pony to danger. 

“And another thing…” Robin said. 

“Shhh!” she interrupted him. He looked stunned but then he realized she wasn’t looking at him. Slowly Marian drew and notched an arrow to her bow. 

“What are you doing?” he hissed. 

“Be quiet,” she said. Marian looked at Sky, whose ears flicked to her left. She glanced to the trees over Robin’s shoulder and saw movement. There was a flash of sunlight on metal and Marian realized Guy and his men hadn’t given up quite yet. 

“Look out!” she cried, leaping forward and pushing Robin out of the way. Just as they both fell to the ground a crossbow bolt flew through the air and fell useless on to the road, missing its target. 

Marian rolled and brought up her bow at the same instant, loosing and arrow into the greenery. There was a cry of pain from the shooter but before she could go to him, Guy and the three other soldiers he had brought burst out of the forest. They had circled around and surrounded them. Marian cursed silently at herself for being too busy arguing with Robin to notice. 

The man she shot burst out of the trees and Marian dropped her bow, taking out her saxe and throwing knife. He drew his sword and attacked. Marian dodged to the side, bringing up her weapons and knocking his blade to the side. In the same movement she spun and kicked his knee with her booted heel. The soldier cried out and dropped to one knee on reflex. She spun her saxe knife in her hand so the hilt was pointing out. Then she slammed the hilt into the back of the man’s head, knocking him unconscious. 

One mad down, Marian took stock of the skirmish. Robin’s men fought hard, but they weren’t soldiers. Hand-to-hand combat wasn’t their style. Robin had scrambled to his feet and pulled out a knife, going to the aid of one of his men. Little John was swinging his large staff, doling out damage wherever he could reach a uniform. Marian heard another cry and saw one of Robin’s men sink to the ground, blood beginning to stain his shirt in a thin red line. 

“I would tell them to put down their weapons if I were you, Hood,” Guy said. He held a knife to the wounded man’s throat. 

Marian glanced to Robin, who was glaring at Guy. Two of Guy’s men were down but the other two were still on their feet, though wounded and roughed up. The others looked to Robin, who reluctantly sheathed his knife. John dropped his staff and the other three outlaws dropped their bows. Marian didn’t move. 

Sir Guy looked at her. “Lady Marian. If it’s true that you had nothing to do with your ‘rescue’ then you have a choice. Either help me take these men into custody or be an outlaw yourself. Considering that you are not from here, I would choose wisely.” 

Marian picked up her bow nonchalantly, as if she had no intention whatsoever of using it. She noticed Robin was frowning at her and she could tell he was worried, wondering if he had made a huge mistake. Two paths diverged in front of her, and whatever decision she made would determine what happened to her in this world. Marian thought about her mission, but the Rangers weren’t here. She was completely on her own. The memory of Guy watching emotionlessly as Joseph was dragged from his parents' arms appeared in her mind’s eye. Could she live with herself if she sided with him? From the little she had already gleaned about this world, whatever was going on here went against what she stood for and what the Rangers stood for. But if she became an outlaw her mission could be in jeopardy. Marian glanced at Sky, who flicked her tail. _You know what to do_. 

“You’re right, Sir Guy,” Marian said. Her thoughts had raced through her head in the matter of moments. “I am not from here. It’s not normally a good policy to go around flaunting the laws of a strange land days after you arrive.” 

Robin’s worry turned to alarm and she noticed out of the corner of her eyes the big man clench his fists. But she tried to keep her focus on Guy and the way he held the knife to the other man’s throat. He had relaxed its position a bit when she started talking, which helped her out considerably. “Unfortunately you have not endeared the law of the land to me.” In a blur of motion Marian drew and shot. Guy yelled as the arrow lodged itself in the hand holding the knife. 

Marian was already on the move before the arrow hit, leaping on to Sky’s back and then kicking her forward. The man Guy had threatened was scrambling away, holding his side with one arm to try and stop the bleeding. She reached her hand down to the wounded man, who looked up at her skeptically. 

“Come on!” she said. Guy was pulling her arrow out of his hand. “Hurry!” The injured man reached up and she helped him on to Sky’s back. 

“You….” Guy started to say in fury, reaching towards her. But Sky skipped back and then Marian kicked her into a gallop and she and her passenger flew back down the road towards Locksley, leaving everyone else behind. They passed the turnoff towards the town, riding further down the road into the woods. It wasn’t long before the only thing she could hear was the dull thump of Sky’s hooves on the ground and the labored breathing of the outlaw behind her. The forest flashed by them and Marian started to ease Sky to a canter and then a walk. When they reached a fork in the road Marian turned Sky down the left fork for a bit and then backed Sky down the right trail, hoping to hide their tracks amidst the others that were in the dirt. Then she nudged the pony off of the road and into the forest, walking far enough in that they couldn’t be seen from the road. 

Marian dismounted and then turned around to help the man off of Sky. His shirt was smeared with red and he sort of slid off of the pony’s back. But when she reached out to steady him he shrugged her off. “I’m fine,” he said. He was tall and very pale, his skin washed out underneath his shaggy blond hair and beard. He was older than her, maybe twenty-five or so, and didn’t seem to appreciate being rescued by a girl. 

“At least let me bandage your wound, and then you can go off into the woods and play bandit again,” she said. She had gotten similar treatment from some of the people she helped in Araluen and even some of the Rangers when she came in contact with them. It wasn’t new. 

The man grumbled but didn’t refuse, so she dug in her bags for a little bit, searching for bandages from the medical pack she had brought with her. “I’m Marian by the way,” she said when she finally found them. 

“I know,” he responded, lifting up his shirt with a wince. 

She rolled her eyes, starting to wrap the wound. “Is it not customary in this country to introduce yourself as well?” 

“Alan A’Dale,” he said. He grimaced as she tightened the bandage and muttered, “I am so not getting paid enough for this.” 

“You’re getting paid?” Marian asked absently, tying off the cloth and stepping back. “There. It wasn’t deep, even though it bled a bit. Rest and you’ll be fine.” 

“Well, no, I'm not. But still,” he said grinning a bit. “So,” he eyed Sky as the pony stepped up behind Marian. “You’re one of us now?” 

Marian shrugged. “Why don’t you show me where Robin Hood is, and we’ll find out.” 

  


The last of his men where straggling into their camp, but Alan was still nowhere to be found. After Marian had taken him and ridden off, he had signaled his people to retreat and they scattered into the forest. It didn’t take long to lose Guy and the soldiers for good, though there were some long uncomfortable minutes spent in cramped hiding spaces in order for that to happen. He knew the forest like he knew his own name and the Sheriff’s men didn’t so it wasn't difficult, but that didn’t stop him from worrying until all the people he had taken on his rescue attempt came back safely. Most of them had, but Alan was the only one left. He tried not to wonder about Marian, if she was going to try and come with or go home like he had told her. He had felt so stupid when he thought she was going to turn him over to Guy and then, in a blink of an eye, her arrow was sticking out of Guy’s hand. 

“He’ll be fine Rob,” Little John said to him. He was sitting on the ground, his back against a tree with his staff laid across his knees. Both he and Robin had placed themselves on the small ridge that surrounded their campsite. When Robin of Locksley became Robin Hood, he had set up his new home in a large, bowl-like depression in the middle of Sherwood. Eventually people had trickled in, families who had lost their homes, children without parents or who had to escape being taken by the Sheriff, and men and women simply desperate for a way to support themselves. Their camp had grown into a small community but the forest had provided for them. The natural formation of the site protected them from wind and prying eyes and, with a few little manmade additions, could be somewhat comfortable at times. There was a brook not too far away that provided water for his people and they had posted outlooks in different spots around the site in order to give them some warning of trouble, if it ever came to that. 

He was scanning the woods now for runners from any of those lookouts, hoping they would bring him news of his missing man. Little John chuckled beside him and Robin looked down at him. “What’s so funny?” 

“Oh, nothing,” he said. “I’m just thinking about the look on your face when the lass gave you a tongue lashing.” 

Robin flushed but he tried to hide his embarrassment. “I was trying to help her.” 

“Aye, but it looks like she didn’t need it, did she,” John said. 

“How was I to know that?” he snapped, getting defensive. Little John simply grinned. 

“What I want to know is why you wanted to help her in the first place,” he asked. “You hardly know her.” 

Robin glowered. “Because nobody, I don’t care who they are, nobody deserves to be questioned by that man. You know well what could have happened to her,” he said quietly. If the Sheriff thought she had any information, was valuable in any way, she may never have left the castle at Nottingham. 

Little John sobered. “Well that’s true enough,” he replied. “Still, I’m glad she got away. We would have had a hard time shaking those men with Alan wounded like he was.” 

Robin didn’t answer because he finally spotted some movement through the trees. Robin nudged Little John with his foot and the big man slowly rose to his feet. Cormac, one if the runaway children who had joined his band, came up to them out of breath. “Robin, there is…someone who wants to see you. Alan is with her.” 

He ignored the spark of excitement he felt when he realized Cormac was talking about Marian. “They’re waiting by the outlook?” he asked. 

Cormac nodded. “She said to tell you it would be a better idea for you to come to her than have a stranger walk in unannounced.” 

“Well she’s right about that,” John murmured. 

“All right, lead the way,” Robin said. They walked at a leisurely pace back to the outlook, letting the boy catch his breath. It took a while to reach the post, but when they did he saw Marian in her mottled cloak standing at ease next to her pony, who flicked her tail lazily, chatting with Alan and the other sentry. 

“Glad to see you made it back,” Robin said as they came into view. The others turned and Alan grinned. Robin noticed Marian was watching them carefully, not revealing anything behind those grey eyes. 

“The lady patched me up real well,” Alan said. “Wasn’t sure if I should bring her or not.” 

Little John walked up and offered his hand to Marian, bowing when she shook it. “A pleasure to finally introduce myself to ya’. I’m Little John.” 

Marian laughed in a warm, friendly way. “Pleased to meet you as well. How did you get the nickname? I’m not sure it suits you.” 

Little John straightened. “I think it’s supposed to by ironic,” he said with a smile. 

Robin walked a few paces off, beckoning to Marian. She smiled slightly but followed without comment. When the two of them were out of earshot she crossed her arms, waiting for him to speak. 

“Does this mean you want to join us?” he asked. 

Marian shrugged. “Like I said before. I really don’t have anywhere else to go now. I still need to learn more about this w—place. Let me stay. I can be of help.” 

He didn't answer right away. Instinct told him she could be trusted, but she also seemed to be hiding something. “How do I know you won’t betray us the first chance you get?” he asked. 

Marian raised one eyebrow. “One,” she said holding up a finger. “I saved your life. “Two, I saved you and your men, again, when I shot Sir Guy. And three, think about what I did for Joseph. I didn’t know you then.” She couldn’t tell him that this was also the place that kept her close to the gateway and close to home. If she tried to escape Sir Guy, now that she was an outlaw, she may have to go so far away they would never find her. Valuable time would be wasted getting home. Right now, joining Robin Hood’s band was the best option she could think of and she couldn't risk that. She could still do what King Duncan had asked her to, and stay nearby. She had to. 

Robin had to admit, she made a good point. When she had pushed him out of the crossbow bolt’s path back on the road she had saved his life seconds after arguing with him. He wouldn’t have to put her on any missions quite yet, and he could always make sure someone watched her just in case. And frankly, he was intrigued. Robin grinned and Marian tried to keep an answering smile from her face. “All right then,” he said holding his arms out wide. “Welcome to Sherwood.” 

  


Marian heard the camp before they entered it. She could hear people talking, laughing, and even some children shrieking while they played games. She could smell something cooking and the sound seemed concentrated around one area, like a large group of people were getting ready to eat. 

There were shouted greetings and a buzz of welcome as the men returned, but the conversation died down as Marian was led into camp. A lot of eyes locked on the newest member, and most of them were not trusting. 

There were a lot more people than she had originally suspected, and quite a few women and children. _Families_ , she realized. _There are families here_. Counting quickly she added five more men to the four she had already met on the road as well as seven women. Children ran through the standing adults and she didn’t have time to get a quick headcount. Thousands of questions rushed through her mind but she didn’t have time to ponder or ask them all. She noticed tents set up in a circular fashion around an open space, where a large fire was burning and the food was being prepared. There were also lean-to’s and shacks made out of cloth and sticks. Shelters had even been gouged out of some massive oak trees and Marian was a little impressed by the inventiveness of it. Looking around she realized they were in a massive bowl-like depression. She noted the lookout spots around the ridge and what appeared to be rope bridges strung through the trees. There were screens made of forest debris set up around the edge of the camp, hiding the site even more. 

“Robin,” one of the older women called out. She was standing next to a community cauldron, a ladle swinging lazily from her left hand. “Good to have you back in one piece. Mind introducing your friend?” 

“That’s her!” a young voice called out. Heads turned and there was movement through the crowd as a small figure made his way through. “That’s Marian.” Marian shook her head, she should have known. Will Scarlet trotted up to them with a grin that promised trouble. “I saw you at the town, but Robin told me I had to come back here and I couldn’t help with the rescue.” 

“That was smart,” she told the boy. 

“You sound surprised,” Robin muttered so only she could hear. Marian refused to answer but she couldn’t help the smile on her face. 

“I didn’t think you would come here!” Will said, fairly bouncing with excitement. He had told everybody about the woman he met in the forest but no one had believed him. Now he had the proof. 

“Nobody thought she would be coming here,” another voice said from the crowd. This one was female and younger than the woman with the ladle. Marian detected a hint of suspicion and maybe a little bitterness in the voice as she sought out the speaker. Marian spied a red-headed woman, with her arms crossed staring at them balefully. “What happened?” 

Murmurs ran through the crowd and Marian caught a sense of unwelcome that she wasn’t unused too. Being the only female Ranger wasn’t easy and these people probably had reason to be suspicious of her. Still, their distrust and—in some cases—outright hostility hurt. 

“She saved my life,” Robin said firmly. 

She heard some exclamations of disbelief and others looked at her with a little more curiosity. But just then a young child started yelling, “But mama, I’m _hungry_!” 

The parent tried to quiet the child but the woman at the cauldron decided the babe was right. “We can figure out exactly what happened later. Information is always digested better on a full stomach,” she announced. 

“Ah, Lucy,” Little John said, sauntering up to her. “You never know how much it gladdens my heart to hear you say so.” 

Lucy chuckled. “Off with you, you old flirt. Get in line with the rest of ‘em.” 

The people started forming up, some children standing with their parents and other children standing by themselves. Marian saw that all the people there were skinnier than they should be and some of their clothes were hanging on by threads. She couldn’t understand what would drive a family out here to the middle of the woods when they could have a house and a fire to go to. Whatever it was, it made them desperate. 

Marian looked for Robin, to ask where she should set up her own little camp, and realized he had been pulled away by two men. One was tall and gaunt, an angry look in his eye. The other was much shorter, shorter than Robin even, and calmer. Both cast glances her way. She figured she shouldn’t interrupt. 

“It’s a bit overwhelming at first, isn’t it?” 

Marian looked to her left and found herself staring in to the smiling blue eyes of an elderly man. He was bald on top, but the rest of his hair was a wispy grey. He wore one long brown robe, belted at the waist and held a staff in his hand much like Little John’s. Despite his age, Marian noticed his firm grip and steady stance and decided he was a fit and energetic man with the spirit of someone much younger. 

“I apologize for the reception,” he continued. “We are not the most trusting of people, but that doesn’t excuse bad manners. Friar Tuck,” he said by way of introduction. 

“Marian Harwood,” she shook his outstretched hand. “No need to apologize. I was just wondering where I could set my tent and put Sky.” 

Friar Tuck nodded and then extended his hand, palm up, to Sky who stretched her nose out. But it wasn’t until a subtle signal from Marian that the pony stepped forward and let the man rub her nose. “She’s lovely,” he said. “Come, I’ll show you a place and then you can get supper with us.” 

Marian thought about the hot soup Lucy was handing out and then about the mistrustful stares and shook her head. “It’s all right, I have enough provisions.” 

“I insist,” Friar Tuck said, leading the way to the opposite side of the camp. “You won’t get them to trust you unless you socialize.” 

“Them?” Marian asked. “Does that mean you already trust me?” 

“I heard Will’s account of what happened in the forest, and what you did for Lila and George back in Locksley.” He looked at her with those blue eyes and Marian fidgeted. It was like he could see everything about her with just one glance. Then he blinked and the feeling was gone. “I think you are a very trustworthy person Marian.” 

He directed her to a spot on the edge of camp, situated so she could observe all the goings-on from her tent and yet far enough away that she wasn’t crowded by other people’s living quarters and they weren’t threatened by her presence. Then he stood in line with her, waiting while Lucy dished out the food. Tuck pointed people out to her, explaining that many of them came here when they couldn’t survive anymore in the towns and villages. The Sheriff’s and Prince John’s laws ran them right out of their homes and into the wilderness. 

They sat down together around a smaller fire pit. She was surprised when Alan came to sit with them. “I see you’ve met Alan,” Tuck said. “Reformed thief and pickpocket.” 

“Aw, come on now padre,” Alan said with a drawl. “Don’t go making me out to be all respectable.” 

“Because we all know that will only happen once hell freezes over,” a young woman teased as she sat down next to Marian. She nodded to them, her gaze frank and open. “Jenny, pleased to meet you. It’s not every day you get to meet someone who saves Robin Hood’s life.” 

Marian smiled. “It was kind of an accident,” she joked. Jenny laughed, her plain freckled face lighting up with delight. Her brown cotton dress was worn and washed out, but surprisingly clean for their living situation. She balanced two bowls of soup, handing one to Alan. 

“So, Marian, where are you from? You don't seem to be from England,” Jenny said. 

_Is it that obvious?_ “I’m from the east,” she said. It wasn’t strictly a lie. “A very small country you’ve probably never heard of.” 

“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Alan asked. Jenny rolled her eyes and Alan chuckled to himself. 

“Just travelling,” she answered. “I wanted to see what else was out there.” 

“It’s too bad,” Tuck replied. She noticed the genuine sorrow in his eyes. “This is a beautiful country, and my home. I hate to see it come to this state.” 

There was a moment of silence for the seriousness of his tone and then the conversation turned to lighter topics. Mostly Marian listened as they talked about Alan’s old thieving days, Jenny’s poor attempt at roasting a rabbit and how both of them came to be here. Marian was content to let them do most of the socializing while she observed her dinner and companions and the interactions between others in the camp. 

It was after they had placed their bowls in one of the two large baskets used for cleaning dishes that she noticed a harried young woman walking around, her head turning as if looking for something. She talked to a few other adults who shook their heads and she sighed in exasperation. 

The object of her search, Marian realized, was a young girl of about three or four who had secreted herself between a tree trunk and a thick shrub. _She is good_ , Marian thought. She stayed still even as the woman—who Marian assumed to be her mother—walked right by her hiding place. 

When the woman walked in the other direction and disappeared behind some tents Marian excused herself from her small group. She slipped around behind the girl, using her cloak so neither those in the camp nor the hider would realize she was there. It wasn’t until she got close that she made some noise. The little girl turned around with wide, brown eyes which settled on Marian. 

“I saw you before. You came with Robin,” the girl said. 

“Yes, I did. Who are we hiding from?” she asked the girl conspiratorially. 

“My mama,” she answered. “She wants me to go to bed but I don’t wanna, and she always telled the same stories all the time.” 

Marian nodded gravely. “That is a problem,” she said. “But she is probably really worried about you.” 

“Nu-uh,” she said. “She just doesn’t want to let me play.” 

“You know,” Marian said. “I bet I know a few stories you’ve never heard before.” 

The girl looked at her. “Really?” she asked, skeptical as only little children could be. 

“Really,” she said. “I’ll make you a deal. How about, if you go listen to your mother, and do what she tells you I’ll tell you a brand new story.” 

“Can Molly listen too?” she asked, showing Marian an unadorned straw doll. 

“Of course,” she said. 

The girl looked at Marian. “Pinky promise?” she held out her little pinky. Marian looked at it with some confusion for a few seconds and the little girl sighed. “You have to hold out your pinky, too.” Hiding a smile, Marian did so and watched as the little girl locked their pinkie fingers together. Satisfied, the girl crawled out from behind the bush and ran through the camp. Marian followed at a more sedate pace. 

“Genevieve, there you are!” The woman exclaimed with the weariness of a parent used to her child’s escapades. 

“Mama, mama she said if I was being good and listened she would telled me a story I never heared before!” Genevieve raced up to her mother and pointed back at Marian who smiled gently at the woman. 

“She did, did she?” the mother asked. 

Genevieve nodded. “Can she? Please?” 

“I don’t see why not,” the woman said. “But only if you get ready for bed right this minute.” 

Genevieve giggled and clapped her hands and then ran into a small tent, which was really more of a sheet draped over an overhanging branch with a couple of poles holding up the sides. 

“I hope that’s all right,” Marian said. “I noticed her hiding and I thought I could help.” 

The woman brushed blonde hair with a hint of grey out of her eyes and gave Marian a tired smile. “If you don’t mind, I’d actually really appreciate it. Gen has me wrapped up and twisted around all day, anything that makes her get ready for bed is a blessing. My name is Hannah, by the way.” 

“Marian." 

Hannah nodded. “Yes, I saw you come in with the men. It was a shock, to be honest. We didn’t think any more people would be joining us.” 

Just then Genevieve’s voice could be heard coming from the tent. “Mama!” 

Hannah sighed. “Come on, I guess it’s story time.” 

  


Marian sat by Genevieve’s bedroll, finishing up her story. “And Will was trapped. Princess Alyss was bound to the magic blue stone, her protection gone. The sorcerer was telling her to hurt Will and there was nothing she or he could do stop it. And then,” Marian lowered her voice and Genevieve’s eyes got wide. 

“What? What happened?” 

“Will did the only thing he could do. He said three words. ‘I love you.’ And suddenly, Princess Alyss could move again! With those words she broke free of the magic blue stone and knocked the evil sorcerer out. Sir Horace came in and helped Will capture him so he couldn’t harm anybody else. And Will and Princess Alyss lived happily ever after.” 

Marian smiled as Genevieve clapped. “Can you tell another story?” she asked. Marian shook her head. 

“It’s time for you to go to bed, but maybe if your good I can tell you another one tomorrow night,” she said, looking at Hannah for confirmation. “And your mother is going to tell me if you were good enough.” 

“I promise,” Genevieve said. “I’ll be really, really good.” 

“Good night,” Marian said and the little girl snuggled into her small blanket, her eyes drooping closed. 

“Thank you,” Hannah said quietly as they left. “I hadn’t heard that story before, either. I know how Gen loves new stories.” 

“I like telling them,” Marian said. “They remind me of home.” She had told Gen the story of when Alyss had been captured in Castle Macindaw and Will had gone to rescue her. Recounting the familiar tale, scaled down a bit for a young one’s ears, had brought a sudden and sharp stab of homesickness. She wondered how they were faring, if Araluen was winning, and what her friends were doing. _I wonder if they even notice I’m gone_. But she shook her head, closing her eyes against the threatening tears and banishing them before they could fall. She was here now, she would do her job and help the people she could. Even if they weren’t the people she wanted most to help. And while doing all of that, she would find a way to help her friends back home. Somehow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am so sorry about the super long delay between the last chapter and this one. Finals came and then I was out of a computer until only a few days ago. Anyway, thank for reading and I will do my best to post more quickly in the future. Enjoy!


	6. Fly through the Sky

Her days took on a pattern after that night, as she became more familiar with the camp and its people. She started telling stories only to Genevieve, but then her audience continued to grow. At first it was just the children who listened to her stories but eventually, many of the adults joined in as well. It got to the point where, instead of telling stories beside the children’s beds, she would sit next to the fire after supper and tell the tales of Araluen. 

These were some of her favorite times because it gave her a chance to visit her home and her friends, couched as fairy tales. Sometimes she would alter the details a bit, especially details about the Rangers, so the sharper adults wouldn’t get suspicious about her own origins. She told them about Will, about Horace and Halt, Alyss and Princess Cassandra. 

During this time she, Jenny, and Hannah became friends. Marian was often put on the chores list with at least one of them, and they would eat meals together. She never had very many female friends growing up, except Carey, and it was nice to talk to the women without having to prove anything about herself. 

She got to know that Little John was sweet on Lucy, and Marian thought the woman returned the big man’s feelings though Lucy would never admit it. She heard tales about King Richard and the Holy Land, how he traveled there to win the land back from the infidels who seemed to think it was their Holy Land, too. Personally, Marian didn’t see the point but she didn’t make her comments on the war known. She learned about the Sheriff and Prince John, about the laws that were piled on the people until the people could no longer support them. 

Robin gave her a week to settle in before they started sending her out of the camp. He couldn’t afford not to use someone of her skills, despite the fact that she hadn’t been there that long. Marian got the small-time jobs, guarding the men making food and money deliveries to the poor residents around Sherwood and making sure Robin and his people got back safely. 

Despite her presence on the deliveries, Marian still felt useless. More like they were pacifying her rather than letting her really do something important. Sometimes it felt like the outlaws thought Sky was more useful than she was. During the second week, this point of view was made clear when Robin asked her to come to his tent for a meeting. When she got there she opened the flap and Robin was bent over a piece of paper. Camille, the redheaded woman who had been the first to object to Marian's presence when she entered the camp that first day, stood looking over his shoulder. Both of them looked up when she stepped inside. 

“Marian,” Robin said with a smile. She wanted to respond in kind but Camille’s smirk soured her mood. 

“Hello Robin. You wanted to talk to me?” 

“We need to use your horse,” Camille said. 

Marian blinked. The idea of someone else besides her or a few select Rangers riding Sky was so foreign it took her a moment to process what Camille had said. 

“Excuse me?” 

Robin shot an annoyed glance at Camille before answering more carefully. “There is a supply warehouse we are planning to hit. Things would go easier and we could carry a lot more if we had Sky with us.” 

“Well I would be happy to help,” Marian said. “All you had to do was ask.” 

“We don’t need you,” Camille said. “Just your pony.” Her smile was thin. “You haven’t been here long enough to get the privilege of going on something like this.” 

“Enough Camille,” Robin said. His voice was chilly. “Thank you for bringing the warehouse inventory. I’d like to talk to Marian. Alone.” 

Camille looked at him, affronted. “But, Robin—“ 

“If you want Sky, you get me,” Marian interrupted. She probably should have waited until she and Robin were alone. That's what Will would have done and what he would have counseled her to do. But asking to use Sky without her, and Camille's utter certainty that she would get what she wanted, incensed Marian and she spoke without thinking. 

Both of them looked back at her and this time Robin seemed a little uncomfortable. “Marian, we have plenty of good riders who have done this before. I hate to say this, but we do need someone more…experienced with this kind of thing.” 

Marian would have laughed, if she hadn’t already been angry. If he really knew who she was, he wouldn’t hesitate to put her on this mission. He also wouldn’t ask to let someone else ride Sky. “This isn’t about my not wanting someone else riding her, which I don’t,” she glanced at Camille. “What I mean is, it isn’t possible for anyone else to ride her but me.” 

Camille scoffed and even Robin looked a little skeptical. He smiled like he was simply humoring her, rather than really listening to her. “Look,” Marian said impatiently. “If you don’t believe me you are welcome to try. If you find a rider then Sky can go with you, no questions asked.” 

“That seems fair enough,” Camille said. Robin looked sharply at her. She had just roped him into a deal he wasn’t sure he was ready for. If he refused to take the deal now, the whole camp would know about it by supper. But Camille wasn’t paying attention to Robin, she was staring at Marian with a look of victory on her face and Marian felt a slightly unjust thrill at the prospect of proving her wrong. 

“And if you can’t,” Marian added, smiling. “I come on the mission, with Sky, no questions asked.” 

Robin nodded, but he appeared reserved. Camille, however, grinned. “Whatever you say Marian.” 

Marian spun and walked out of the tent without responding. She marched over to Sky, who was relaxing in the afternoon sun, munching on the grass near her feet. “Hey girl,” Marian murmured. She rubbed Sky’s neck and the pony nudged her with her nose. “There’s something you’ve got to do, if you’re all right with it.” 

Sky snorted and Marian could hear people behind her. _Looks like you’ve stirred something up._

“Maybe just a little,” Marian replied. “They think just anyone can ride you.” 

Sky stomped her foot in irritation. _I’d like to see them try_. 

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” she asked. “Are you up for a demonstration?” 

Sky tossed her head and whinnied. Marian grinned. “That’s my girl.” Then she turned around, her arm around Sky’s neck, to face her two doubters. “Well Robin? Who wants to try first?” 

“What are we trying?” Alan asked, walking up to them. Others had slowed or stopped all together to see what was going on when Robin and Camille both appeared. The camp had known a meeting was in progress and to see them now signaled that something was up. Alan was just the one to voice what everyone else was thinking. 

“I’m trying it,” Robin said. “It’s only fair.” 

“Marian thinks she’s special,” Camille said. “She thinks she is the only one who can ride her horse.” 

“I’m not the special one,” she said while putting the saddle on her pony. “It’s all Sky. She’s very selective.” Marian glanced up and she could’ve sworn Sky was preening. When she cinched the last buckle, she gestured to Robin. “Go ahead.” 

Robin looked at her warily. He was probably one of the only people who thought this might be a bad idea but he stepped up to Sky anyway. The horse butted her head affectionately against Robin and he relaxed a little, swinging himself easily into the saddle. 

“I’m not sure what you—“ He wasn’t able to finish the sentence because in the blink of an eye Sky twisted beneath him and sent Robin flying through the air. He landed on the ground with a grunt and then lay there for a few moments. 

Marian walked over to him, offering a hand to help him up. “I did warn you,” she said. Robin accepted the help, albeit a little ungraciously, and then brushed grass and dirt off of his pants, scowling at Sky who stood placidly in place. “She looks so easy-going.” 

“She is. When you don’t try to ride her,” she smirked. Robin glared at her but didn’t respond. 

“I’ll have a go!” Alan said from the crowd before she could say more. People grinned and Marian glanced to Sky who swished her tail. _Let him try._

“All right Alan, go ahead.” Grinning, the thief stepped up to the horse and mounted. It took even less time to send him flying through the air. Alan didn’t seem to mind the bruises. He even asked to try again. 

There were a surprising amount of volunteers and each one didn’t stay on for more than a breath. Camille never tried it; she only stood there scowling. When they finally ran out of people willing to try, Marian unsaddled Sky and scratched her behind the ears. “Good job girl,” she murmured. 

“All right Marian,” Robin said through gritted teeth. As more and more people had flown through the air, Robin had become increasingly distressed. “You’ve made your point. You’re on the team for tomorrow, with Sky.” 

“Wonderful.” Marian felt a sense of triumph. This would show them not to listen to her. 

Robin nodded stiffly and walked back to his tent. Camille left in the other direction and the rest of the crowd had dispersed except for Friar Tuck. Marian nodded to him. “Hello Friar. You didn’t want a turn?” 

“I think we all got the message,” he said. Something in his tone made Marian wince a little and the triumph faded, to be replaced by something akin to shame. “Do you think the spectacle was necessary?” he asked, rubbing Sky’s head gently. 

“They wouldn’t listen to me, Tuck. I had to show them I was serious,” she answered defensively. 

“In front of everyone?” His eyes were kind but the words still made Marian feel small. He knew she was referring to Robin’s little flight. She had been embarrassed when it was her tumbling through the air, before she learned the secret to riding Ranger ponies. And that was just in front of two people. This had been in front of the entire campsite. Even though he should have listened, she really didn’t have to embarrass him publicly. She could have done it in private. She could picture Will's look even now and it made her wince. 

“He didn’t have to volunteer,” she said weakly. “Someone else could have done it.” 

“I think you know him enough to realize he wouldn’t do that,” Tuck said gently. “Just something to think on.” Tuck gave Sky a last pat and then wandered back towards the center of camp leaving Marian and her horse alone. Suddenly her victory didn’t seem quite as sweet. 

* * * * 

The creature sneezed when he came out the other side of the gateway, squeezing himself through a large opening in a tree. This world definitely had a different scent, one he didn’t like. Growling, he licked the blood off of his claws, blood from the fools who had tried to stop him from coming through. No one comes between a _valkan_ and it’s target. 

He shook his fur, trying to get rid of the tingling sensation on his skin. He didn’t belong here and he didn’t like it. A wash of anger moved through him as he thought about the lone apprentice that was his reason for coming to this place. He wanted to make her pay for it. But the boss never gave him a timeline for finishing his mission. So, if he was going to be stuck here in this other place he was going to have a little fun. Besides, he was hungry and he couldn't hunt hunt well on an empty stomach. 

The _valkan_ lifted his nose to the wind and got a scent, a mixture of scents really. But in that mixture he smelled humans and his mouth watered. It wasn’t the human he was looking for, but he knew he wouldn’t have a problem finding her. Right now, it was time to feed. 


	7. Special Delivery

He had stuck her with guard duty. Marian huffed as she scanned the area in front of the warehouse, trying to peer through the shadows. They didn't use lanterns, so her eyes were used to the softer light of the moon and stars. She felt comfortable beneath her Ranger cloak and hidden in the shadows. She wouldn't be seen by anyone unless she wanted them to see her. 

It already felt like they had taken too long, but she had mentioned it fifteen minutes ago and she was ignored. So, she continued to guard. Her bow was strung and an arrow was notched but the string was relaxed. Marian could hear the murmured voices of Robin and the other men inside. Sky was with them and they were trying to figure out which supplies to put on the horse and which to carry with them. She was catching their nerves and so she steadied her breathing. Even if guard duty wasn’t ideal, it was her job and she was going to do it right. 

Robin hadn’t spoken to her much the whole way there except to give her orders. It stung a little but she didn’t try to start a conversation. If he didn’t want to talk, then so be it. He hadn’t even let her be a part of the team that took out the posted guards. She had waited in the back with Sky until the Sheriff’s men were unconscious and tied up in the barn. Then he had posted her at the door and told her to wait. 

“It’s like I’m being punished,” she muttered. But even in her bad mood, she was still alert. It was because she stayed alert that she heard strange voices coming towards her before they showed up. She straightened and then moved back closer to the warehouse door, kicking it once to warn the men inside of possible danger. The voices died down inside and Marian concentrated, realizing there were two men coming towards them. _Probably the soldiers’ relief_ she thought, mentally kicking Robin and everyone else in that barn. If they had listened to her, they wouldn’t be in this situation right now! Instead they had run out of time and she had to fix it. 

“Hey, Connor, hope you haven’t fallen asleep yet,” one of the men yelled out as they came closer. The warehouse was on the edge of a small town. The garrison there employed maybe fifteen men, only because supplies were stored here before they were moved on to Nottingham and other places around England. If anything was ever missing, the locals were interrogated and severely punished even if the culprits were never found. Food didn’t often go missing from here. Robin had planned to leave some sort of calling card to keep the villagers from getting punished, but he might not have to any more if they got caught now. 

There were only two smaller buildings blocking the soldiers’ view of the warehouse, one on each side of the dirt track that wound through the town. The path curved to the left around one of the buildings and Marian could see the bobbing orange glow of a lantern grow bigger as they rounded the corner. Their banter ceased and they froze for a moment. Then the man not holding the lantern brought up a crossbow. 

“Stop!” he ordered. Marian didn’t move, but underneath her hood she rolled her eyes. “State your name and your business here!” 

Marian pushed her hood back, moving her bow behind her back, and smiled at them. “I’m so sorry, I seem to have lost my way. My horse ran off, and I’ve been looking for her.” 

The crossbow didn’t go down, but the arrow wasn’t released either. She saw the two soldiers look at each other, still suspicious. She but her bow down quietly, hiding it in the shadow by the door. Then she moved towards them, her hands up to make them believe she was unarmed. “You haven’t seen her, have you? Shaggy, grey, little white star on the nose?” 

“No, ma’am, I’m afraid we haven’t. Stay where you are please,” the one with the weapon said as she moved even closer. The one with the lantern moved to her right. Marian eyed the crossbow, knowing she would have to disable that one first. The other one would be busy messing with the lantern. 

Marian sighed. “That’s everything I own! Now what am I going to do.” 

“Stay where you are!” the man barked. Marian stopped, wide-eyed, and the soldier softened his voice. “Ma’am, this is an area you do not have permission to be near.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize. You see, I just saw her run this way and I chased after her. I didn’t even pay attention to where—“ 

She moved while she kept talking to give her a few extra moments of surprise, which was all she needed. Marian grabbed the crossbow and pushed it to the side, kicking the man in the stomach and bringing her arm down on his wrist, trying to break his hold on the weapon. She wrenched it out of his hands and threw it. The soldier grabbed her wrist and then punched her right underneath her chest bone. She doubled over and couldn’t breathe, but before he could do anything she threw herself at him, tumbling them both to the ground. They tussled, but she grabbed her saxe knife and pressed it to the man’s throat. “Don’t move,” she said. He didn’t know she had no plans to actually hurt him, and she felt bad about being the cause for the fear in his eyes. 

She looked up and saw his partner inching towards the crossbow on the ground. She threw her other knife to land only inches from his hand. “I said don’t move.” 

“Boys!” she called. The soldier at the mercy of her knife paled when he realized she wasn’t alone. “A little help here.” The barn door opened and Robin strode out, carrying two coils of rope that must have been inside. 

“You gentlemen picked the wrong night to be on time for your shift,” he said. Robin walked up to the one near the crossbow. “Hands, please.” The soldier glowered but did as he asked and Robin tied him up. Little John then led him inside while Robin came to tie up the other soldier, to make sure they weren’t followed. Marian let him up and the soldier didn’t do much in the way of resistance. Robin brought him into the barn with only a nod to Marian, and had them sit by their unconscious comrades near the back, where sacks of potatoes were piled up. 

“Tell the Sheriff when he asks that I send my regards,” Robin said. “And the people of England thank you for your service and generous donation.” He leaned closer to them and his eyes had gone cold. “If I hear that you’ve punished the people of this village for what happened tonight, we’ll be back and we won’t let you off so easily.” Then he stood back up and nodded to Little John, who gagged them. Marian went to Sky, stroking her nose and noticing the full saddlebags. 

“Are we ready to go?” Marian asked. 

Robin nodded. “We’ve got enough. Let’s go.” 

They left the warehouse and the soldiers, running into the forest before Robin called a halt. “We need to split up and make deliveries tonight. If we can spread out the food and supplies now, they won’t be able to recover it. 

“Rob, the medical supplies we found, they really need to get to Sarah,” Little John said. 

Robin ran a hand through his hair. “I know. But she lives in Barnsdale, that’s 50 miles away.” 

“We have a horse,” Little John said pointedly. 

“That, as Marian pointed out, can only be ridden by her,” Robin said without looking at her. "Marian doesn't know where she is going, and Sarah won't accept anything from her since she doesn't know Marian." 

“What if you were riding her with someone else?” John turned to Marian. 

“As long as I was with her, it would be fine,” she answered warily, suspecting where he was going with the question and not sure she liked it. 

“Robin, you can go with her.” Marian closed her eyes, sometimes hating when she was right. “Sarah won’t talk to anyone but you and Marian has the horse. Problem solved. We can take care of the deliveries closer to home.” 

Robin looked around at the men waiting for his order. Then he nodded. “Do it.” Marian mounted Sky first while he handed out the food and supplies to the others. Once he was finished she held out a hand. He grabbed it and swung up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist so he wouldn’t fall off. It was strange having him so close to her; having anyone so close to her. She had never ridden double before and the saddle was small enough that she couldn’t help but lean back against him just to keep her balance. 

Marian glanced at Little John, who was struggling to hide a smile and she glared at him. “You kids have fun,” he said. 

Neither of them answered and Marian kicked Sky into a canter, a pace the Ranger pony could keep for hours. They rode through the forest as the night waned and the sun rose on another day. 

Halfway into the morning the two of them decided to walk, letting the pony have a break. It was hard work carrying two riders and full packs and Marian didn’t want to injure Sky. Marian was on the left side of the horse, holding her reins, and Robin was on the other. They had ridden in silence because it was too difficult to talk while riding at that pace. But the silence had continued when they started walking and Marian felt its weight grow between them. She felt Sky watching her, and the pony nudged her arm. _Well?_

Marian cleared her throat. “Robin, I’m,” she paused, trying to get her voice to work. “I’m sorry about the other day, with Sky. It was...a bit much.” 

They kept walking, and she couldn’t see his reaction since he was on the other side of the horse. Marian didn’t think he was going to respond to her and then she heard him sigh. “You don’t have to apologize Marian. I had it coming, when I didn’t take your word for it.” Marian thought she detected a bit of a smile in his voice. “I think Alan had some fun, at least.” 

“He did seem to enjoy getting bucked off a horse more than most people do,” she smiled gently and Robin laughed. They kept walking but the silence felt lighter now. They ate lunch, chatting this time, and then rode Sky once again. A few hours later Marian could see the tops of the houses that indicated they had reached the town of Barnsdale. But Robin directed her towards the eastern edge of town where the shabbier homes were constructed. It was nearing evening by the time they stopped at one of the last houses. It looked like a one room house with a thatch roof that seriously needed repair. There was a small garden outside surrounded by a makeshift fence. It looked well loved and gave the otherwise decrepit house a feeling of peace. 

Robin dismounted first and Marian saw movement at one of the un-shuttered windows. Then the door burst open and Marian sat on Sky in shock as a wave of children mobbed the young outlaw. They clamored for his attention and Robin laughed, hoisting a young girl onto his hip and rustling the hair of another boy. There were five of them, three of them blonde and freckled and Marian would have guessed them to be siblings. But there were two who didn’t look anything like the other children, nor did they look like each other. 

Marian waited a few minutes before dismounting herself. The little girl Robin held looked at her and then the other children went quiet. She could see their distrust of her, which she assumed stemmed from a general distrust of strangers, but because she was with Robin they didn’t back away. 

“Who is that, Robin?” the little girl asked. Marian stayed by her horse, patting Sky absently, and waited for introductions to be made. 

“This is my friend, Marian,” Robin said. Marian smiled gently and he lowered his voice to a mock whisper. “She is really nice.” 

She blushed a little but continued to smile at the children. “Well any friend of Robin’s is a friend of ours,” a voice called out from the porch. 

The girl Robin was holding scrambled down and ran back to the woman who had appeared in the doorway. She was older, with hair more grey than blonde, and her face was lined with wrinkles. But her eyes twinkled at them in a way that told Marian her mind was just as sharp as it had been during the prime of her youth. While the woman bent down to hear what the little girl was whispering in her ear, Marian realized a toddler had come up to her. He was a small boy with solemn eyes, one of the children who didn’t look like the others. Marian hadn’t been around small children much but she followed her instincts and knelt down so she could be eye-level with him. 

“Hello there,” she said softly. “What’s your name?” 

The boy didn’t answer her, just looked between her and her pony. “Her name is Sky,” she said. At the mention of her name the pony turned her head slowly and lowered it towards them. “She likes meeting new friends, would you like to pat her?” she signaled Sky behind her back to give her the okay and the little boy nodded. Marian held out a hand to him and she was surprised when the boy took it. Marian held out her other one slowly, showing the boy how to pet Sky on the nose and he mimicked her perfectly. Sky nuzzled the boy's hand, which looked small against the pony’s head. Then Sky huffed and the puff of hair stirred the little boy’s hair. Marian was afraid it would scare him but instead, he giggled. Then he replied the same way to Sky by blowing in her face and Marian smiled. 

She looked up and saw Robin and the other children looking at her in surprise and Sarah was looking at her shrewdly. Suddenly afraid she had done something wrong, she asked “What is it?” 

Robin didn’t answer her, he just looked at her like he had seen a whole other side of her. It was the woman, who Marian guessed to be Sarah, who finally spoke. “I haven’t heard a peep out of the lad for months, ever since his parents left him and I took him in. I still don’t know what his name his.” 

Marian looked at the small boy, who was laughing and blowing at Sky as if he were talking to her. “They left him alone?” She knew what that felt like, to be all alone and not know who your parents were or why they were gone. 

Sarah nodded. “Aye, I took him in when I found him. Even though I didn’t birth all the children here, they’re mine just the same,” she smiled. “I see you got some things to drop off, Robin?” 

He nodded and asked if there were any helpers available. The children volunteered all at once, and the young boy pressed into Marian’s side as the rest of them crowded around Sky, each grabbing the small packages Robin handed out to them. She put her arm around the boy protectively. “Shhhh,” she said. “It’s all right.” 

The rest of them left in a whirlwind of motion and voices. She looked at the boy. “I think it’s time to go inside now, don’t you think?” 

He considered her for a moment and then nodded. He patted the pony on the nose once more and Marian stood up, still holding his hand. 

“Bye Sky.” 

Marian looked down in shock at the boy who had just spoken, the boy who apparently hadn’t spoken for months. Sky nudged him in farewell and he laughed. Robin was smiling at her with joy that lit up his face and her heart skipped a little. Marian ducked her head. She hadn’t really done anything, it was all Sky, and yet Robin was looking at _her_. 

Sarah poked her head out of the door. “You three better get in here or you’ll catch a chill!” Robin rolled his eyes and the little boy tugged Marian’s hand. 

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me boy,” Sarah called good-naturedly from inside. Robin winced and Marian laughed. “And you better wipe your boots before you come in or I’ll whack you with a spoon.” Sarah poked her head out again, “Not you dear, of course,” she said to Marian. 

Marian beamed at Robin who looked a little offended. When they entered the small house, after scraping off their boots, Marian noticed the corner towards the back of the house contained a pile of blankets. Then the pile moved and she realized there were two children lying there. The others were quiet around them, but she could see the older ones bringing water and showing them the treats Robin had brought. 

“How are they?” Robin asked. His eyes were tight with concern and Sarah’s face fell when she glanced over at her other two children. 

“No better and no worse. They hardly take anything to eat anymore, and it’s a struggle to get them to drink. I’m trying to keep them comfortable but with no money for food...” she cleared her throat. “They’re strong though, I know it.” 

The little boy left Marian’s side and went to sit quietly by the sick children. Robin pulled out a small bag from underneath his cloak and handed it to the elderly woman. “I found these,” he said. “They should help.” 

Sarah looked inside the bag of medical supplies and froze, shocked. Then she just stared at the bag in her hand like it had appeared out of thin air. “Robin,” the emotion in her voice made Marian’s own eyes sting. “Robin I can’t thank you enough. You’ve already done so much for us…” 

Robin squeezed her shoulder. “You don’t need to thank me, I only wish I could help more. You’re doing a good thing Sarah, taking care of these children.” 

She shook her head. “And you’re taking care of us.” She turned to Marian. “This boy here is like my own grandson. I knew him when he was little you know, his parents would stop through here and bring him along,” Marian looked at Robin who shifted uncomfortably under the praise. “Running around, causing all sorts of trouble,” she smiled with such genuine affection Marian could only smile in return. “He hasn’t changed much, but I thank the good Lord every day for it.” 

He rubbed his neck and wouldn’t meet Marian’s eyes. “All right Sarah, you don’t need to tell her that.” 

She laughed. “Oh, I’ve embarrassed him,” she said not the least bit apologetic. “Go on, boy, go say hello to them and I’ll mix up something for supper.” 

“It’s all right,” Marian said just before Robin was about to object as well. “We couldn’t impose, I know you have little as it is.” 

“Nonsense,” she said sternly. “This is my house, and you’re my guests. You’re staying for supper.” 

Marian didn’t usually have qualms about arguing, but there was something about Sarah that told her there would be no winning if she chose to argue this point. So instead she went outside and brought in some of her own food supplies to share. There were many mouths to feed and Marian was determined not to overburden Sarah and her family. 

The older woman saw the food when Marian came back in and she nodded in approval. “Come over here, you can help me with the cooking.” 

Marian walked to the left side of the house, where a long table was placed next to the hearth. She watched the older woman, who showed her new tips and tricks for cooking she had never seen before. While they worked, Marian would glance over and see Robin talking softly with the sick children, who were now sitting up, and playing games with the others. He was patient with them and when he laughed he did so fully, without pretense or filter. He was happy here, with these people, and she could tell he truly cared about them. 

During supper they all sat at the table where the food had been prepared. Even the children who were sick made it to the chairs with the help of their brothers and sisters. The little boy who spoke two words to Sky now sat on Marian’s lap. At first she was afraid of hurting him or having him fall and hurt himself and she didn’t want to do anything wrong. But he leaned against her and she put her arm around him like it was the most natural thing. It was oddly comforting to have a small child trust her like that. 

Their supper was soup made with whatever Sarah could find to put in it. It was watery, but it was hot, and they were able to supplement it with some of Marian’s travel cakes which the children loved. They chatted with her about anything that came to mind and for a brief moment she was reminded of the Ranger Gatherings, when so many voices talked all at once it was impossible to follow any one conversation. It was a lot of noise, but it felt like home. 

She slipped out after dinner for a breath of air. Marian greeted Sky and fed her some grain from her hand, rubbing Sky’s mane affectionately. The sun was almost gone and in the west the sky burned gold and red while the grey of twilight encroached from the east. There was a breeze that carried the scent of soil and woodlands and Marian closed her eyes, breathing deep. She could almost imagine that she was back at the cabin with Will, giving Sky one last rub down before bed. 

She heard soft footsteps in the grass and she looked up to see Robin coming towards her. He smiled and then shyly held out his hand for Sky. The pony stretched out her muzzle and allowed him to pet her. 

“They like you,” Robin said. 

Marian looked down. “I like them. They remind me of home a little bit.” When she glanced back up he saw her looking at her curiously. Hoping to stave off his questions she said, “I can see why you do it.” 

“Do what?” 

“This,” she opened her hands. “This whole thing. You really care about them, don’t you?” 

He was silent for a moment, looking at Sky but not really seeing her. “Some people think I do it for the gratitude or for the fame.” He flashed her a cheeky grin and added, “Which isn’t all that bad don’t get me wrong.” 

“But Sarah and her children, they’re like family to me. After…” he cleared his throat. “After my parents died, I was supposed to be in charge of Locksley. I had no clue what I was doing and before I knew it the Sheriff was running everything. The people were starving; my people, the ones I was supposed to protect. I failed them.” 

He looked so guilty Marian wanted to hug him and comfort him in some way. Instead she wrapped her arms around herself and said, “You didn’t fail Robin. It wasn’t your fault.” 

He shook his head. “I should’ve known better. I could never live up to my parents.” She sincerely doubted that but before she could say so he was already speaking again. “I did the only thing I could do. I broke the law. If I couldn’t save my own family I was going to save everyone else’s. If that made me an outlaw, so be it.” 

“You can’t save everyone,” she said softly. 

He looked up and met her eyes. What she saw there helped her understand why so many people wanted to follow him. “I can try.” 

They were silent for a few minutes and Marian looked up to see the first of the stars wink in view. She was getting used to these different constellations but they were still another reminder of how far away from home she really was. 

“What about you?” Robin asked. 

Marian looked at him. “What about me?” 

“Well, I told you why I was here. Why are you? Where you are from? Strange as it sounds I still don’t know a lot about you,” he smiled but she could see there was more than just a passing interest. 

What could she tell him? Marian found herself wanting to be honest with him, to tell him about where she came from and why she was here. He wouldn’t be afraid of her because she was a Ranger, he didn’t even know what that meant. But she couldn’t. She was going to have to lie. She was surprised how much it hurt. 

“I’m nothing special,” she said. “I was…kicked out of my home.” _Not technically a lie_. “There was fighting there and I wasn’t allowed to stay. I abandoned my own friends and travelled here,” she said bitterly. 

“I think there is more to the story than that,” he said gently. But Marian shook her head and he tried one more time. “And all your skills, your shooting, your horse, even your strange cloak, that's all nothing?” 

The corner of Marian’s mouth twitched into a half smile. “My father taught me.” Robin nodded but she could tell he was disappointed. 

“But I’ll tell you one thing,” she said without thinking. She had felt something there between them and she didn’t want to lose it so she acted on impulse. She had to give him something. Marian took out her bronze oak leaf medallion and held it out for him to see. The starlight glinted dully off the metal and Robin looked at her with a question in his eyes. “This is my most important possession,” she said. “It means everything to me. It’s a symbol of my home, what I stand for, who I am. I can’t tell you more,” she silently begged him to understand. “But without it, I am lost.” 

Robin reached out and closed her fingers over the oak leaf. “Marian Harwood, you are the most confusing and frustrating person I have met. You just gave me so many more questions than answers.” She worried that he didn’t understand the importance of what she told him but when he looked at her and smiled she realized she had nothing to worry about. “Thank you.” 

“If you two are leaving tonight, you better get started,” Sarah called from the doorway. Robin jumped at her voice and dropped Marian’s hand. 

Sarah smiled and to fill the silence Marian said, “Thank you Sarah, for the supper.” 

Sarah shook her head as most of the children ran outside to say their goodbyes. “I should be thanking you.” 

The little boy came up to Sky and patted her on the leg to say goodbye. When Marian went over and knelt next to him she said, “Sky is going to miss you. But I’ll try to bring her back sometime, okay?” 

He nodded and then hugged her. She felt him stretch onto his tiptoes and turn his head so his mouth was right next to her ear. “My name James,” he whispered. Marian pulled back and looked at him in astonishment. She glanced up to see Sarah watching them, confusion and delight warring across her face. 

“James,” Marian said, a smile spreading across her face. “Should we tell her?” she nodded in Sarah’s direction. James nodded and they walked over to her hand in hand. When Marian told her what he had said, Sarah knelt down and pulled the boy into a fierce hug. Robin, who had gone inside to say goodbye to the children who were sick, came back out just in time. 

“He told us his name,” Marian said, savoring the happiness that bubbled inside her. She had to hold on to the small things. 

It took longer than she had thought for the two of them to get on Sky and be ready to go. Sarah had finally shooed everyone inside so as not to hold them up any longer. She kept a hand on Sky’s saddle and looked around to make sure they were alone and Marian felt a small chill of unease when she saw Sarah’s face. 

“What is it?” Robin asked. 

“I didn’t want to say with the young ones to hear. But I’ve heard from some friends, farmers and such passing up this way from Nottinghamshire, that there have been a few wolf attacks,” she said. “You two be careful, you hear?” 

“Wolves? Attacking humans?” 

Sarah nodded. “It could just be rumors, but something has them talking.” 

Marian closed her hand over Sarah’s. “We’ll be careful,” she said. “Thank you for the warning.” 

She nodded and then stepped back. Marian kicked Sky into a canter once again, wanting to cover as much distance as possible during the night. They didn’t want to stay with Sarah and bring the attention of the authorities on her and her family. The night was clear and riding Sky with Robin’s arms around her gave Marian a thrill of freedom. So she pushed Sarah’s warning and thoughts of the Sheriff to the back of her mind, content simply to ride. 

They were a little more than halfway back to camp when they heard screaming. Sky jolted to a halt and pricked her ears forward. They had been using the road for easy travel, and the screams were definitely coming from up ahead. Then they heard snarling. 

“The rumors must be true,” Marian said grimly as she urged Sky into a gallop. The Ranger pony responded even thought they had already travelled a long way. Marian could sense Robin readying his weapons and she bemoaned the fact that because they were riding double there was no room for her to get her own bow ready. 

As they charged forward Marian realized the screaming had already stopped, but she could still hear growling over the pounding of Sky’s hooves. They rounded a bend in the road and Robin let loose an arrow. It flew harmlessly through the air as the wolf disappeared into the trees before they could get a good look. Sky skidded to a halt once again, her sides heaving, and Marian leapt off of her pony, snatching at her bow and loosing into the trees after the rapidly disappearing creature. She heard a pained snarl, telling her the arrow had hit its mark, but the creature didn’t slow and it was soon lost to view. 

Marian stared after it. Whatever that thing was had been too big and too fast to be a normal wolf. But that didn’t make any sense. She was supposed to be safe here, right? Nobody knew she had gone through. She shook her head sharply, annoyed with herself. “I’m just being paranoid,” she muttered. 

It was quiet behind her and she suddenly remembered that the wolf had been attacking someone. She whirled around and saw Robin kneeling over a person on the ground. The road itself was dark with blood. She rushed over, but before she could say anything Robin looked at her and shook his head slightly. Marian looked down at the body and paled. She felt sick. The throat was gone, ripped to shreds. Claw marks could be seen on either side of the man’s chest and there was a huge bite taken out of the leg. 

“God,” Robin said. “If only we had been a few minutes sooner. Did you see that thing?” He looked out into the forest the way the creature had disappeared. “It was huge. How has someone not seen that wolf until now?” 

Marian shook her head. “I—I don’t know.” She couldn’t look away from the wounds and from the tracks in the dirt. Flashes of memory overlapped with reality as she remembered past scenes similar to this one, only it was a Ranger on the ground and not a stranger. 

“Marian?” Robin asked, standing up and putting his hand on her shoulder. She looked at him, telling herself this had nothing to do with the past. This was a wolf attack, definitely a wolf. “Are you all right?” 

She swallowed hard. “I’m fine. I’ve just never seen a wolf that big.” She tried to smile to show him she was all right but it felt fake, even to her. “We should get back to camp, make sure it doesn’t get that far. After we move him,” she nodded to the body on the road. 

Marian moved to grab the man’s feet but Robin’s hand on her arm stopped her. “Is there something I need to know?” 

She couldn’t tell him. She didn’t even know if her suspicions were right and he would never believe her anyway. She ignored the warning in her brain and shook her head. “No, nothing.” 

He let her go, but continued looking at her with concern. “You would tell me, right, if something was wrong?” 

“Of course,” she told him. “Come on, help me move him. We need to get back.” Robin reluctantly dropped the conversation and he helped her move the unfortunate man to the side of the road. When they were done she tried to wipe the blood off of her hands, but no matter how hard she tried it wouldn’t come completely off. They didn’t know who the man was or what he had been doing so they couldn't do much more. Robin said a short prayer over him, after covering his body with branches. Then they mounted Sky once again, and rode hard towards camp. Any good feeling they had from the evening before had been replaced by dread. 

It was already nearing evening by the time they arrived at the campsite, sweaty, tired, and out of breath. The moment Sky stopped, Robin leapt off of her back and went to find Little John, to talk about the wolf attack. Marian stayed with Sky, taking off her tack, and giving her a thorough and well-deserved rub down. “Good girl,” Marian murmured. “You did well today. Tug would be proud.” She continued to talk to Sky, who lipped at her shirt to reciprocate the comfort. 

“John says they’ve had no sightings of anything like a wolf,” Robin said, walking up to her. “They’ve heard of attacks around here but no confirmation, until we came back. It’s a lone wolf,” he reassured her. “We’ll be able to bring it down if it comes near here.” 

She smiled at him. “Yeah, of course. There’s nothing to worry about.” 

Robin nodded. “Get some rest. The others are already done with their deliveries.” He looked like he wanted to say something more, but after a moment he turned away. Marian gave Sky another pat and then went to her own small tent to get some sleep. Despite the events of the past day and a half, and the worries they produced, she was asleep as soon as she rolled herself up in her blanket. 

**** 

The creature sat in the trees, looking over the campsite. Her scent was strong now, he could almost taste it when he opened his mouth. He had made noise earlier when they came upon him in the road, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t move silently when he wanted to. He was upwind of the pony and far enough away that nobody spotted him. If he desired, he could kill her right now. His mouth started to water at the thought of her hot, warm blood filling his mouth. Even though he had his fill of the other humans here, he wouldn’t be fully satisfied until his target was just as dead. 

It was time to kill her, but surprising the prey in its sleep wasn’t quite as fun as taunting it. He wanted her to know she was going to die, to look him in the face and see no hope. He would savor that especially coming from a Ranger, even a measly apprentice Ranger. He hated their kind and took a delicious pleasure in making them suffer. The creature bared his teeth, his vicious fangs stark white against the blackness of his fur. He was ready. 

**** 

It felt like she had just crawled into her tent to sleep when she was woken up again. She heard a cacophony of voices, and they sounded anxious and scared. Sky whinnied and that’s what really woke her up. Marian crawled out of the tent, rubbing sleep from her eyes and blinking from the late morning light. Robin was giving orders to a group of people, others she saw were already taking off into the woods. She ran up to the group and the look on Robin’s face confirmed what she already felt in her gut. When he saw her approach he answered her unspoken question. 

“Locksley is burning.” 


	8. Message from Home

Smoke. There was smoke everywhere. It filled the sky and obscured her vision. Fire crackled somewhere behind her and even now she could feel the heat on her skin and see it shimmering in the air. Earlier, Robin had sent men ahead to try and put the fire out. As soon as she heard the news she saddled Sky and raced towards the village with Robin behind her. When they got there she and Robin realized at this point they could only evacuate the villagers and try to keep the fire from spreading. 

Marian raced between the buildings even now, trying to find any of the townspeople still inside their houses. Many had gathered at the edge of town, some were helping save the remaining buildings, and others were still unaccounted for. It was those unaccounted villagers she was looking for. Marian coughed, trying her best to keep her nose and mouth covered. Her eyes watered as she looked at the buildings around her, but it was almost impossible to see. She was about to keep moving when faint cries alerted her to people trapped by the fire. Frantically she looked around, trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. 

_There!_ A house farther up on her left was spewing smoke after the roof had caught fire from its neighbor. Marian ran up to the door and yelled, “Stand back!” She hoped they could hear her but she didn’t have time to wait for a response. Marian started kicking at the door, once, twice, three times until the wood splintered and a family rushed out of their home, the mother clutching one of the children to her chest and gripping the other one tightly by the hand. 

She didn’t think about it when they first got here, but as she stood in the road she tracked the path of the fire and something struck her as odd. The fire had started on her end of the village and already she could see the remains of houses that had been gutted by the flames. But on the other end of the village she saw another set of flames, as if there had been two starting points. That didn’t make any sense to Marian. One accidental fire was unusual enough, but two at the same time? 

She continued on her path towards the southern edge of the town, where the ruins of the fire still lay smoking. She didn’t quite know what she was looking for, but she knew she was looking for something. Suddenly out of the corner of her eye she noticed a splash of dark red on the street in front of her. Marian knelt and brushed her fingers along the stain. It was blood. The hair on the back of her neck prickled and instinct made her look up. When she saw what was standing there, between the blackened husks of the houses, she froze. Everything around her was forgotten as she stared in fear at the creature before her. 

She should have known. She should have known she would never be safe. The snarling smile of that human-like creature snapped her out of her fear. She stood, reaching for her bow before her mind could truly connect the filed teeth, slitted gold eyes, and massive hairy limbs into a cohesive picture. It was a _valkan_ , cousin to the now extinct _kalkarra_ —a monster Will had once hunted with Halt when he was a brand new apprentice. Like the _kalkarra,_ this creature was a hunter. It was intelligent, merciless, and obeyed the orders of its master without question—the perfect assassins. 

“Marian Harwood. Apprentice to Will Treaty,” the creature spoke. “It’s about time.” 

The noise from the flames and the cries of terrified townspeople and barked orders of the firefighters were muffled as the fire moved away, and it felt like the two of them were in a bubble of quiet. “What are you doing here?” she asked. 

He sighed. “I thought you Rangers were smart,” he said. The words were hard to decipher, obscured as they were by the deep grating of his voice. “Perhaps you meant to ask how I got here.” It moved toward her and Marian stepped back at the same pace, keeping an arrow aimed at its heart. She could have shot it then and there, but she wanted to know a few things first. 

“We knew where you had gone not long after you went through,” he snapped at her. His golden eyes analyzed her every movement. “I was assigned the clean-up duty. Chasing after a runaway apprentice when there is much bigger game to be hunted,” he licked his lips and Marian suppressed a shudder of revulsion. “Marian, you should know better. You can’t cheat by running away, that’s not fair,” he waved a finger at her, mocking her. “You think you are safe in another world? You’re not. We will find you, all of you. Once we’ve begun you can’t stop us.” 

“Will, and Halt, they’ll stop you,” she said with conviction. “You may have taken us by surprise at first but we found out about you. They will stop you.” 

“How do you know we haven’t already got them?” he taunted. “While you hid, ran away and abandoned them, we were slaughtering your kind like the sheep they are.” 

“You’re lying,” she said, almost snarling back at him. 

He bared his teeth in what she thought was supposed to be a smile but its mouth wasn’t built for smiles, so it came out twisted and gruesome. “Are you sure?” he asked. He reached a hairy, paw-like hand tipped with black claws instead of fingernails into its leather vest. Then it tossed a handful of objects at her feet. They clinked together as they landed, the sound dulled by the dirt of the road. 

Oak leaves. They were oak leaves, bronze, silver, and gold all mixed together. All of them blood stained. Some were broken or chipped, some had their chains completely missing. As the gleaming metal mixed with the dirt and ash on the ground Marian felt something inside her break. Her arms lowered slowly, letting out the tension in her bow as she gazed in horror at the broken symbols of the Rangers in front of her. 

“Marian!” 

She snapped her head up. All she caught was a glimpse of teeth and golden eyes before she was knocked to the ground by six tons of fur and muscle. She pushed its face away trying her best to sink into the ground and give herself just a few more inches of air. 

The valkan’s jaws snapped at her neck and it was all she could do to hold him off. She couldn’t reach for her saxe knife or he would have her. So Marian kicked up, meeting the soft fur of its belly with her foot but the beast wouldn’t budge. She could smell its hot, rancid breath and hear the click of its teeth as they met air less than an inch away from her vulnerable neck. 

Pain flared in her side and she bit back a cry as its claws ripped through her shirt and skin, coming away bloody. Still she held him off, but she knew she didn’t have much time. Then she heard a thud and the valkan jerked sideways, throwing off its balance and giving her just enough time to draw the saxe knife from its sheath. Without thinking she stabbed upward as hard and fast as she could. Its snarling turned to whining and she pushed the valkan sideways, her knife in its chest and an arrow sticking out of its side. 

She knelt on top of it, one knee digging into its chest as she twisted the knife. The valkan glared at her with hate filled eyes as her blood dripped onto its fur. “Are they dead?” she asked, her voice steady and cold. The valkan smiled and laughed, a broken wet sound. She must have pierced a lung. 

“You are all dead,” it said. “Even if you kill me, another will find you. And another and another until you and all your friends have been ripped apart.” 

Marian ripped out her throwing knife and put it to the creature’s throat. Blood had started to trickle out the side of its snout after it coughed a few times. “Are Will and Halt dead?” she snapped. “Tell me!” 

It growled and swiped at her, its claws catching her shoulder and her cheek since she wasn’t quick enough to avoid it. The movement brought her blade away from its throat and it lunged up at her ready to tear her throat out. She was knocked backward and Marian brought her saxe knife up. Just as the valkan was about to sink its teeth into her skin, the creature jerked to a stop, impaling itself on the end of her blade. 

Blood dripped down her arm on to her shirt, bright red and sticky. She pushed the body off of her in disgust. Footsteps pounded in the dirt and she whirled, knife ready for another attack. 

“Whoah,” Robin said, coming to a stop with his hands up. He looked pale and worried. “Marian, it’s me. It’s just me. Are, are you all right?” 

Marian looked at him without recognizing him for a moment and then she saw a glint of light at his feet. One of the oak leaves had been knocked around in the scuffle and was separated from the others. She swallowed a cry of despair and grabbed up the badge. It was a silver one and she clutched it tight, her knuckles turning white and the edges of the medallion digging into her palm. _What if it’s Will’s? What if it’s Halt, or Gilan, or Crowley?_ Names ran through her head over and over again and a keening noise started in the back of her throat. Hot tears started running down her cheeks as she gazed unseeing at the road. 

“Marian,” Robin’s voice called to her, calm and soft as if he were approaching a wounded wild animal. She saw movement and then her vision was taken up by green and brown as he knelt before her. Then all she could see was his face, his eyes. They were worried and desperate. She felt his callused hands take hers and ease her grip on the silver oak leaf, though he didn’t try to take it, which was a good thing. “Marian, we have to get back.” 

“They’re dead,” she whispered to him. “I left them and they’re dead, and I don’t even know who…” Her voice broke and she snapped her mouth shut, afraid that she if she kept talking everything inside her would come pouring out and never stop. 

“Come on,” Robin said helping her to stand. He glanced over the wound in her side and his eyes tightened. He kept his hand on her arm but she wouldn’t move. 

“I can’t leave them,” Marian said and she broke away, gathering up the rest of the oak leaves, now covered in dirt. The blood on her hands smeared across the metal and her hands started to shake as the new blood mixed with the old. When she straightened the world spun a little and Robin’s arms steadied her again. 

“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. “Come on, we will get you back to camp.” 

Marian clutched the badges to her chest and she walked with Robin, one step at a time. She didn’t notice the others who had found them staring at her, some concerned and some mistrustful. All Marian could see were the faces of people in a land far away she may never see again as the tears flowed freely down her cheeks. 

*** 

They made it back. Thank God, because Robin was starting to doubt he would ever get her back in one piece. Once they left the village, its inhabitants and most of the buildings saved, Robin knew it wouldn’t be long until the Sheriff or his men tried to track them. But what scared Robin the most was that wasn’t his chief concern. 

He had never seen her like this. Once he got Marian to her feet, she didn’t speak to him or to anyone. Robin steadied her as Little John patched up the wound in her side and on her shoulder but it was like she didn’t feel a thing. All she could do was hold those metal oak leaves like she was drowning and they were her only lifeline. The oak leaves, he noticed, were exactly like the one she showed him at Sarah’s, the one she said meant everything to her. From the way she was clutching these he didn't doubt it. 

Robin tried to keep the others from staring, situating himself between her and the rest of the group as much as possible while they trekked back to camp. Some of the men split off deciding to come in from different directions to make it harder for the Sheriff to track them. They were careful, they had to be. He hid their tracks, they switched directions and backtracked and did their best to keep the direction and location of their home a secret despite the trauma of the day. 

Every once in a while as they walked Robin would glance at her face. She still moved through the forest as confident and stealthy as ever. But there were fresh tear tracks on her cheeks and her eyes were haunted. Marian was one of the most confident and strongest people Robin had ever known. She was always so _present_ and yet he knew there was a part of herself she kept hidden. But now all he could see was someone broken, someone mourning a deep loss that he had no idea how to help heal. 

When they stumbled into camp, after confirming their identities with the sentry, Marian shuddered and when she spoke Robin was startled. “I need some time,” she said, looking across the clearing at her claimed corner and the pony that stood placidly next to her tent. “I know you probably need answers but…” 

“It’s fine,” he said, surprised at how calm his voice sounded. He wanted to let her know that he understood, that he cared and was here for her but he just didn’t know how without scaring her off. “Just see Lucy first, she’ll get you stitched up.” 

Marian nodded and threaded her way between people, either missing or ignoring the stares some of their returned comrades were giving her. 

_You think you are safe in another world? You’re not. We will find you, all of you. Once we’ve begun you can’t stop us…_

Robin closed his eyes against the memory and the chill of fear that came with it. He heard John’s familiar gait behind him as the man came up and stood silently next to him. 

“What the hell, John?” Robin asked. “What was that thing?” 

“I wish I could tell you, lad,” Little John said. “I’ve never seen a creature like that in my life.” 

“She knew it,” Robin recalled the conversation that had been replaying itself in his head. “It knew _her_. It was there to kill her.” 

John nodded slowly. They had both went looking for Marian after all the townspeople had gotten out of their homes and the fire line was well established. It was Robin who had first spotted her, facing off with that thing in the middle of the road. He and John had gone around and hidden themselves behind another building. But it wouldn’t have mattered because the attention of both parties was utterly focused on the other. 

He had heard what they said but he didn’t understand half of it. Some of the names seemed familiar from stories Marian usually told but that didn’t make any sense. And then when the creature threw those medallions on the ground, the look on her face….he couldn’t believe it. She never missed a shot and Robin would admit, to himself, that she was the better archer. But she missed the attack then. When the creature moved and she wasn’t paying attention his heart had nearly stopped and he only had time to cry out her name in warning. 

John had put a hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place so as not to distract her as she fought the thing on the ground. He couldn’t go to her, but he couldn’t just sit there helplessly, so Robin drew an arrow and loosed. He didn’t dare go for a killing shot for risk of hurting her, but he needed to distract it. That was all she needed. 

“You heard what it said, Rob,” John said, bringing him back to the present. “They will keep coming.” 

“I know,” he said. What did that mean for them? For their cause and his men? “It will be a while though before whoever sent it realizes the thing’s dead.” 

“You sure about that?” John asked. 

Robin didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. They both knew there was something going on here that neither of them understood. 

“Robin!” 

Robin turned to the voice and saw Alan with a few others from the mission walking towards them. John shifted, standing behind Robin to give him the lead but also to let the others know he was supported. Robin felt good to have him at his back. 

“Rob, what is going on?” Alan asked. “Is Marian all right? What was that thing?” He seemed genuinely concerned, but you could never really tell with Alan. The others looked a bit more angry and suspicious and they were backing Alan, which made Robin unsure where exactly this was going to go. 

“Marian’s fine,” he answered. “I’m going to talk to her as soon as Lucy gets her wounds bandaged and fixed.” 

“Look, if she’s putting us in danger of werewolves and such things…” one of the men growled. 

“Nobody is in danger,” Robin interrupted coldly. “And I’m not going to hear you spreading lies Mathew. Watch it.” he said. “When you need to know something you will. Until then be grateful we made it all back successfully and mind your own business. I’m sure you have other things that need doing.” 

The men knew a dismissal when they heard one. Despite his youth Robin was their commander and they had followed him into places not many others would have gone. A few held on to their misgivings but most turned away and dispersed. Alan glanced towards Marian’s tent, where Jenny seemed to be comforting the other woman. 

“I hope you’re right, Rob,” Alan said before he too turned away to go tend some necessary mending that always accumulated from living in the wild. 

“You can’t expect them not to have questions,” John commented when they were alone again. 

“I don’t,” Robin snapped. “But I’m not going to let them blame Marian for what happened, not until we know more.” 

“She’s a strong lass,” he said softly. “She can take of herself, and them, if anything ever comes of it.” 

“Oh, I know,” he said. _Believe me_. “But either way, she’s not going to have to do it alone.” 

*** 

Marian brushed Sky’s coat absently, even though it had been groomed to gleaming minutes ago. The pony, understanding her rider as all Ranger horses seemed too, leaned into Marian’s hand and stood still, giving the woman the contact that she needed. She had gone to Lucy, understanding the need for medical attention though she probably could have done it herself. The older woman had stitched her up, noticing her grief and giving her a hot cup of tea after she was done. Thanking her quietly Marian went back to her tent and, after bringing back water, scrubbed the oak leaves until the blood on them was a mere memory. But the washing didn’t hide all of the damage and Marian found it hard to keep looking at them. So she got out an extra cloak, the classic Ranger’s mottled cloak, and wrapped them lovingly in the fabric. Then she secreted the cloak back into her bags, next to the volumes of history and artifacts Duncan had decided to send with her. Then she went to her horse. 

Marian murmured to Sky as she worked, telling her what happened, letting her grief finally break free as she could cry safely with her face hidden in Sky’s dark brown mane. She said her worries as they formed in her mind and then slipped away as others replaced them. But she mainly talked about what she was going to have to say to Robin. 

“I wonder how much he heard,” she said out loud. She had realized he was the one who shouted her name, warning her of the valkan’s attack. “I should have told him before,” she said. 

Sky snorted and Marian frowned. “You’re not supposed to agree with me,” she said. “You’re supposed to sympathize.” 

Sky turned her head. _Of course I sympathize_ she seemed to say. _They are my friends too._

“Oh, I know,” Marian said. “I’m sorry.” She put her arms around Sky’s neck and the horse laid her head across the woman’s shoulders, looking for all the world like she was returning Marian’s hug. 

“Hey,” a voice said softly. Marian looked up and saw Jenny smiling at her. “I talked to Lucy,” she said. “Are you all right?” 

_No,_ Marian thought. “I’ll be fine,” she said instead. “Lucy bandaged everything up well.” 

Jenny frowned. “You know that’s not what I mean.” 

“I’m fine,” Marian insisted. She may have to tell Robin, but she couldn’t tell everyone the truth. 

“Look,” Jenny said. “I know something happened while you were out. You don’t have to tell me what,” she interrupted Marian’s barely formed protest. “But I’m your friend, Marian. Whatever it is, you can count on me to support you.” 

Marian felt tears prick her eyes again, and this time not from grief. _Gorlog’s beard_ , she thought, using one of Halt’s more choice Skandian curses. _I need to stop crying_. 

“Thank you,” she said and surprised Jenny with a hug. The woman laughed and hugged her back. 

“You smell like horse,” she teased gently and Marian smiled as she pulled away. Though the gesture of friendship didn’t take away the loss she felt, her grief lost a little of its biting edge knowing there were people here who still cared. 

Marian found Robin sitting with Little John around one of the smaller cook fires. Dinner had been a subdued affair and Marian had kept to herself after Jenny’s talk. Hannah came over once with Gen and the little girl had given her a hug so tight it was hard to breathe. But they didn’t stay long and Marian was grateful, because she needed to figure out what to say to Robin. 

She knew for certain now that the fires earlier that day had not been an accident. It was no coincidence that the valkan was there when she showed up. The assassin must have been tracking her and come up with a way to draw her out of hiding. They were smart, she would admit, though she hated the creatures. But what she hated most was the fact that the fires were her fault. If she hadn’t been here they wouldn’t have happened. She was putting her friends in danger. 

She approached the fire, letting the comforting weight of her Ranger’s cloak give her confidence. She schooled her face so she wouldn’t give anything away. Robin noticed her and sat up straighter, raising his eyebrows in a question. 

“Can I speak with you?” she asked quietly so the other people around them wouldn’t overhear. “Both of you?” 

John’s mouth twitched in surprise, but other than that he showed perfect composure. Robin rose from his seat on a fallen log. “Come on,” he said and led them to his tent. 

When the flap closed behind them, the silence was heavy. Both of the men turned to Marian and waited for her to start. She pushed the cowl off of her head, knowing this was not the time to hide in its shadow. “I think the fire today was my fault,” she began. 

Robin frowned. “Marian, that wasn’t your fault. The fires…” 

“Were deliberate,” she interrupted. “I believe the valkan set them to draw me out.” 

“Valkan?” John questioned. “I’ve never heard of that.” 

Marian shook her head. “You wouldn’t have. Where I come from valkan’s are bred assassins. They’re smart and they follow orders of the one who bred them to the letter. And they don’t stop until their targets are dead, no matter how long that may take.” 

“And you’re a target,” Robin said, his voice flat. Marian couldn’t tell what he was thinking but she took a deep breath and nodded. 

“Yes. I didn’t set the fires but my presence here endangered everyone. I – ” she cleared her throat, surprised that the words she needed to stay didn’t seem to want to come out. “I understand if you need me to leave.” 

Robin opened his mouth to say something, but John interrupted him. “Explain something for us,” he said. “You said earlier ‘where you come from’ and the valkan said when he was talking to you that ‘running to another world’ won’t help you. What did he mean?” 

Marian felt her stomach clench, like someone had just caught her in a lie. She didn’t realize they had overheard that much of the conversation. Both of the men had wary expressions on their faces. Not quite suspicious, but their lack of trust hurt her. She sighed. “You won’t believe me. Sometimes I don’t even believe it.” 

“You might be surprised,” Robin said. “This morning I didn’t believe in wolf-men, and here we are,” he spread his hands to indicate their present situation. 

Marian looked at the two of them. Where did she even start? She pulled out her own bronze oak leaf, holding it gently. She glanced at Robin knowing he recognized it. He looked back at her waiting for her explanation. “The reason this is so important to me is because this is a symbol of my office, my occupation.” It was so much more than that, but it was hard enough to explain so Marian let it go. “The bronze means I’m an apprentice, the silver is for active duty, and gold is retired.” They both nodded to show understanding. “I’m an apprentice Ranger, someone who is trained to be the eyes and ears of the kingdom and are called on to do any and all that is required of us.” 

“I’ve never heard of them," John said. 

Marian clenched her fist. _Here goes nothing_ , she thought. “You wouldn’t. I come from a country called Araluen, one I know you’ve never heard of either,” she said, interrupting John. Robin gazed steadily at her and Marian prayed her nerves wouldn’t betray her. No matter what happened, it was all or nothing. “Now, this is were it gets hard to believe. I’m telling you this in the strictest confidence. You need to know what’s out there.” Robin glanced at John, who was frowning. “There is this…gateway,” she said, “in the middle of Sherwood. It’s a giant tree, and you can’t tell what it is unless you get close enough.” She was babbling and Marian took a deep breath to slow down her words. “If you go through it, you enter a tunnel that leads to my home. It’s a gateway to a different world,” she finished quietly. 

Silence. The two men stared at her, neither of them reacting. Marian watched Robin’s face carefully, looking for disbelief, laughter, anything. But he kept his face composed and unreadable. 

“Here,” Marian said, pushing down the lump in her throat and revealing a roll of parchment from beneath her cloak. She knelt on the ground and spread the map out in front of her. Robin and John both moved closer, craning their heads to get a better look. “This is Araluen,” Marian said, pointing to her country. “And over here is Skandia, one of our strongest allies. You’ve never heard of these places, or seen these places on your maps because they don’t exist here.” 

“All right. So let’s say, for the sake of the moment, we believe you,” Robin said. Marian let the parchment roll back up by itself, noticing the slight disappointment in John’s face as she put the map away. “Why did you come here?” 

She stood up, closing her eyes. “One of the men in King Duncan’s council discovered the gateway somehow. His name was Jeren. He told Duncan about the doorway, but Duncan didn’t agree with Jeren’s ideas of what to do about it. Duncan said we didn’t know enough, that all we could do for the moment was set up a guard to keep things from coming in and people from going out.” 

She opened her eyes to face her attentive audience. Encouraged a little by their silence she continued, unconsciously lowering her voice in case there were any eager ears outside. “Jeren started building up his own army, determined to go through the doorway. He believed we could take power here. Duncan found out and banished him for treason. It was fine for a while,” Marian said with a slight smile, remembering her training days and childhood at Redmont. “But Jeren hadn’t stopped recruiting after he was exiled. He led an invasion into Araluen, determined to depose the King and, I think eventually, invade what I now know is England.” 

A hard glint came into Robin’s eye. “He thought he could conquer us?” 

Marian shrugged. “We didn’t know anything about this place. We didn’t know if there were people, governments, valuable resources, it could contain anything. Literally, a new world.” 

“So, why you?” John urged her. 

“The war is still going on, and…and we’re losing,” she said. She hated saying the words aloud, as if giving a voice to them might make it true. Marian raised her chin, defying anything they—or she—might say about her country’s chances. “Jeren sent the valkan after the Rangers and prominent war leaders. Duncan sent me here to preserve what we could if Araluen was lost. He also sent me to warn whoever I needed to of the possibility of attack from Jeren. He didn’t know Jeren was the least of England’s problems,” Marian added. 

“That’s why the valkan was after you,” Robin said. 

Marian nodded. “It will be a while before Jeren realizes the valkan didn’t succeed.” She noticed Robin grin at John who only rolled his eyes. “But there is a possibility another will come. Which is why I understand if you need me to leave.” 

“How long were you planning to stay?” Robin asked, serious once again. 

Marian felt the prick of tears in her eyes and blinked quickly to clear them. “I don’t know,” she said. “I could be here for only a few more weeks, months, even years. I’m only allowed to return if someone comes to get me.” 

“So you don’t know what is happening at home?” John asked with sympathy. Marian shook her head, unable to speak. 

Robin narrowed his eyes, as if working through something in his mind. “That’s why you wanted to join. You wanted to be close in case…” 

“In case someone came and I could go home,” Marian finished, her voice thick from controlling her emotions. “Yes. But I fully believe in what you’re doing. And if I can’t fight for my home, I want to help you fight for yours,” she said. 

There was silence in the tent and John looked to Robin, knowing it was his decision to make. The young leader looked at her and she saw sympathy in his face. “Marian, this is your home too. For as long as you want it to be. But, I need you to show me that gateway. If you what you say is true, we need to know where it is.” 

Marian blinked, not quite registering what he was saying. “I don’t understand,” she said. She knew she should have just stopped talking, accepted the decision, but she needed to know. “I lied to you. I didn’t join for the cause, I joined for me, I’m putting all of you in danger, and,” this was the hardest thing for her to grasp, “I just told you there was another world you never even knew existed and you accept it.” 

Robin was serious when he looked at her, gathering his thoughts before answering. “I knew you were hiding something when I invited to stay with us,” he said. “I admit I’m not to thrilled you kept this from me but, I understand why you did it. The order came from your King. If King Richard ordered me to do the same thing, well,” he shrugged. “And when you show me the gateway, crazy as it is, you’ll have more proof you’re telling the truth. But regardless of the omission, I’ve seen they way you are with the people here, Marian. You care, and you belong here. As for whatever is coming for you,” his face hardened into something dangerous. “It’s coming either way. You’re one of us and I’m not letting you face it by yourself.” 

She couldn’t believe it. Marian never expected the truth to be so accepted. She felt a smile come across her mouth and her chest lightened a little. She wanted to laugh, relieved that she could stay. On impulse, Marian took a few steps and wrapped her arms around John, who chuckled and hugged her back, tightening his arms. It was impossible not to feel safe when a man that large and that kind hugged you. 

She stepped out of his embrace and looked to Robin who seemed a little uncomfortable. Marian had an idea and, grinning mischievously so that Robin looked warily at her, leaned over and lightly touched her lips to his cheek. 

Enjoying the shock on his face she stepped back and said, “Thank you. Now, it’s time to make a trip.” 

***

Marian, Robin, and Little John stood in front of the large oak tree. They had left Sky, hoping to keep as low a profile as possible, and Marian had covered their tracks well. Despite having told the two of them, the gateway was still supposed to be secret. 

The two men looked at her expectantly while Marian stared at the tree. She didn’t realize how badly she would want to walk through, to just go quickly and see how things were. 

“Marian?” Robin’s voice shook her from her daze. 

“Come on,” she said. “You have to get close to see it.” She led them close to the trunk and then reached out to touch the long scar that ran down the length of the trunk. John murmured something as the air shimmered and the scar turned into a gaping hole. Robin looked a little pale. He reached out and when his hand met nothing but air he pulled back quickly. 

“The passage is pretty long,” Marian said. “About halfway through I felt this tingle on my skin, it could be the border or whatever you want to call it.” 

“I believe you,” Robin said, backing away. 

John shook his head. “It’s just…another world? When you say it Marian, it’s one thing. But when I see it.” 

“It makes you think about everything we don’t know,” Robin said. Then he looked at Marian, “and what could be on the other side.” 

Marian backed away, letting the gateway close. “You have no idea. If you’re satisfied, we should probably go back. I don’t want to bring any more attention to it, at least not yet,” she said. 

Robin nodded. “Good idea.” 

He led them back towards camp but Marian caught a few wistful glances from both of the men and Marian caught herself wishing that she could show them exactly what was on the other side. _Stop it_ , she scolded herself. _It wouldn’t work. You’ll be leaving them to go home, and their home is here_. She knew one day she would leave and in fact she was hoping to leave soon. So why did that thought make her sad? 


	9. Undercover

“I think it could work,” Friar Tuck said in a slow drawl, ignoring the discomfort on Robin’s face. 

Marian watched Robin carefully. She had outlined her plan and was waiting for a response. “The Sheriff doesn’t know me,” she said for about the tenth time. “A female servant isn’t nearly as suspicious as a lone stranger and I could find out where the treasury is. If I come across some other information all the better for us.” 

“You won’t be able to bring any weapons with you,” John said. 

Marian grinned, “You don’t always need to wield a weapon to be effective,” she said. 

“Guy does know you, though,” Robin finally spoke up. “If he is there then your cover is blown.” 

“I’m good with disguises,” Marian said. “Once I’m done he won’t recognize me. Plus, I doubt someone like him will look twice at a servant.” 

Alan, young Will, Jenny, Hannah, and a few of the other men from the camp were watching the exchange with fascination. They were all seated in Robin’s tent, spread out haphazardly on the ground or on logs. Will was sitting on the ground with his legs tucked underneath him, watching Marian and Robin avidly. For weeks, the Sheriff had been avoiding their traps somehow and had managed to collect a large amount of the taxes. There had also been reports of couriers leaving in the dark hours of the morning. It was decided they needed to strike a blow at the Sheriff now by stealing the tax money back and possibly figure out what else was going on. The only question was how to do it. 

Marian had decided her plan was the best possible option. She could go in disguised as a maidservant, with Friar Tuck posing as an abbot who was bringing her from a convent for work. Once she was inside she could steal the taxes the Sheriff had gotten. It was taking a little convincing for Robin to go for it, however, and she noticed even Alan looked decidedly uncomfortable. He was usually all for dangerous plans. 

“Think about it,” Marian said. “A woman is less suspicious.” Jenny snorted and Marian's mouth quirked up in a smile. “I’m the best trained for it, and he won’t recognize me.” 

“I could go!” Will piped up. “I’m young enough he won’t be suspicious of me either.” 

Marian raised her eyebrows and Robin looked sharply at the boy. “No,” she and Robin said at the same time. 

“I need you as a lookout in the towns, Will. You’re the best we’ve got,” Robin added. 

Will glowed with Robin’s praise. Marian knew the boy was like a little brother to Robin and he didn’t want to put Will in any more danger than he already was. 

Robin looked up at Marian and sighed. “All right,” he said. “But you’ve only got five days. I don’t like the idea of any of our people in that place for longer than necessary. If you don’t get the money by then, that’s fine. Just get out.” 

“Deal,” she said. 

Tuck gave a small smile. “I’ll go get the cart ready. And I should probably brush off my habit.” 

His exit was a cue for the others to leave. Alan clapped Marian on the shoulder, wishing her good luck. She smiled at him, trying to lift the look of concern and disappointment on his face. Jenny gave her a big hug, ordering her to come back safe. 

Hannah beckoned her over to her own small dwelling and ducked inside. Marian followed and smiled at Gen, who was dressing her doll in some homemade outfits. The little girl dropped the doll and greeted her with an enthusiastic hug. “Are you going to tell another story?” she asked. 

Marian laughed and shook her head. “No. I won’t be able to tell stories for a while. But,” she said, trying to stave off the girl’s disappointment. “Your mother is going to help me dress up. Do you want to help?” Gen gasped and nodded, clapping her hands. 

Hannah shook her head. “You have no idea what you’ve unleashed,” she said gravely. 

Gen directed the proceedings with the air of a general in battle. “You’re gonna be beautiful,” she announced. Marian knew that wasn’t the case, considering their goal was to make her as unnoticeable as possible. They mixed ash with a little water and rubbed the mixture into Marian’s hair, darkening it and making it more unkempt. Then they outfitted her with a servant’s cap, which Gen made sure sat just so on her head, and a dress with a worn apron. But Marian knew the true disguise was in her demeanor. She kept her eyes lowered, her hands fiddled in front of her body, and she acted like someone afraid of the next blow the world would send her. She started pitching her voice higher and quieter. She smiled when she realized Hannah was treating her more gently than usual. 

When Marian changed her behavior back to normal Hannah stood back, startled. “You…I didn’t realize. That was amazing!” she said. 

“It’s just little things,” Marian explained. “Behavior, mannerism and such. I don’t have to look like a completely different person, I just have to act like a different person.” 

“Well, I don’t see what Robin’s so worried about,” she said. “You’ll be spectacular.” 

Marian grasped her hand and then gave their little general a hug. “Thanks to you, Gen, nobody will recognize me.” 

Marian walked outside, to her claimed spot, and gathered a few things to put in a travel bag. She rubbed Sky’s face, whispering her own farewells for now. They hadn’t had much time to themselves lately, and she felt bad, but there wasn’t much she could do. After telling Robin the truth about where she came from, she had become much more involved with the planning and other jobs. Many of those jobs couldn’t accommodate a pony. 

“Soon, we’ll go riding together, just us. Promise.” Sky snorted and rubbed her head against Marian’s arm. _I’ll hold you to that_. 

“Tuck is waiting by the road,” Robin said as he walked over. He patted Sky’s neck and the horse flicked her tail in greeting, staring silently at the pony. 

“Be careful, all right?” he said, finally turning to her. “The Sheriff, he has no limits.” 

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. She looked down, debating something in her own mind. What she wanted to tell him was a closely guarded secret and only meant for the most trusted of individuals. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that he may need to know, at some point. And if she were honest with herself, she was starting to trust Robin like she trusted the Rangers. 

“Look, I’ll make you a deal. But you have to swear never to repeat what I tell you to anyone.” 

Robin took one look at her face and realized how serious she was. “I swear,” he said quietly. 

Marian nodded. “There is a trick to riding Ranger ponies. If I’m ever in real danger and need you to come get me, I’ll tell you the code word. Whisper it to Sky and you’ll be able to ride her.” 

Robin looked at her askance. “It’s one surprise after another with you, isn’t it?” 

Marian smiled. “Deal?” 

“Deal.” 

“I’ll see you soon, then” she said. 

Robin nodded. “I’ll meet you on the second day. I’ll be in town in case you need to get out, all right?” he said. 

Marian nodded and, uncomfortable with the goodbye, shouldered her bag and set off to meet Tuck. She didn’t look back, telling herself she would see them soon enough. She did her best to ignore the similarities between this goodbye and ones she had given not so long ago. 

_It’s going to be fine_ , she told herself. _It has to be_. 

*** 

A cart rolled through the castle gate and into the courtyard, its wooden wheels clacking on the cobblestones. The guard on duty walked up to the cart, bored. There was nothing interesting about another holy man in a ratty brown cloak and a walking stick. He’d just have to leave soon anyway. The sheriff didn’t like hosting visitors, especially visitors who were poor. 

The holy man stepped off of the wagon and helped down the other, smaller figure next to him. The person was wearing a plain brown cloak but when she pulled the hood down the guard raised an eyebrow. Things had just gotten at least a little more interesting. 

The girl looked at the castle with wide, scared eyes. She had obviously seen nothing as grand as Nottingham before. The guard stuck out his chest and walked over to the two of them. “What’s your business, preacher?” he asked. 

The man nodded serenely to him. “Good afternoon, sir. I have in my charge an orphan girl who was raised in our sister monastery but has decided not to take their vows. As an act of Christian charity, is there work for her here?” 

The girl flicked her eyes at him and then looked down, shyly. She looked so nervous he thought he could try to help her out a little. “I’ll send for the steward,” he said, flagging down one of the servants nearby. 

They waited in the courtyard, and he tried to draw her into conversation. But she only answered him in short answers and soft tones. She was apparently not used to attention, so he stopped trying after a while and made conversation with the friar. The two men were talking about the state of the roads when a short man who scurried across the courtyard shuffling papers, interrupted them. His face was red and he was winded when he came up to them. 

“You are the one looking for work?” he asked, squinting his eyes at the girl. 

“Yes, my lord,” she said, keeping her head down. 

“Please, sir,” the friar said. “I know she will be safe, here.” 

“This is highly irregular,” the steward muttered. “We hardly have enough room now…” 

“Sir,” the holy man interrupted. “An act of charity like this can…go a long way with the church.” He stared at the steward with his eyebrows raised, and the man cleared his throat shuffling his papers even more ferociously than before. 

“Well,” he said. “I think there is some space in the kitchens we can put her in. If it’s our Christian duty.” 

The friar bowed his head. “Your reward will truly be great in Heaven for such a service. My dear,” he said, turning to the girl. He placed a hand on her head and mumbled a blessing. “Remember your service to the Lord, and to obey his commandments.” 

“Yes, father,” she said. 

The friar smiled. “Be good, my child. Thank you gentlemen.” The friar stepped back up into the cart and without looking back spurred the horse and pulled the empty cart back out into town, leaving his charge in the hands of the Sheriff. 

Marian watched as Tuck and his cart rolled out the gate. She was alone now, with two of the Sheriff’s men. Marian kept her eyes down, only looking at the steward and the guard from beneath her lashes. The steward frowned at her, now that Tuck was gone. “Well, come on girl. Don’t know how long you’ll last but might as well start now.” 

The guard smiled at her and nodded. Marian gave him a small smile, hoping she could stay in his good graces if she needed his assistance later. 

“When you’re working here,” the steward said as he led her into the castle. “Stay quiet, obey without question. Your place is not to think or speak, it is to work.” 

_You have no idea_ , Marian thought. They walked up quite a few stone stairs to large double doors, reinforced with iron strips. Instead of going through the doors, the steward took her left down the walkway, one side open to the courtyard below. Then he led her through a small door at the end and down some narrow servants’ stairs. She could hear clanging and raised voices before they reached the landing and crossed the threshold into the kitchen. A large wooden table drew the eye to the center of the room where different foods in varying stages of completion were strewn. In the gaping kitchen fireplace sat an iron cauldron, resting over flames. Men and women rushed around the room, commanded by an imposing woman wielding a ladle like it was a weapon. She snapped her head up as soon as the steward and Marian stepped in, narrowing her eyes at their intrusion into her domain. 

The woman, blond curls escaping her white cap, wiped her hands on her flour-stained apron approached them. “What do you want, Carver?” 

“Here’s your new kitchen girl, Maggie,” Carver said, nodding his head at Marian. “You said you needed an extra pair of hands.” 

Maggie looked her over and Marian thought she saw her frown deepen. “You know what I meant,” she said. “You know what will happen to her here.” 

Carver straightened his shoulders. “Well, she’s what you got,” he snapped and then turned on his heel, pushed past Marian, and disappeared up the stairs. 

Maggie put her hands on her hips. She was a sturdy woman and Marian thought she was pretty even with the concerned frown. “Well, I suppose you can help with the cleaning,” Maggie said to herself. “Come on, then. What’s your name?” 

“Holly,” Marian said quietly. 

“Well, Holly. My advice to you? Keep your head down and stay as invisible as you can.” 

_That’s the plan_ , she thought but she was thinking about Maggie’s comment to Carver and wondered what, exactly, Maggie thought was going to happen to her. 

But she wasn’t left much time to wonder. Maggie put her to work cleaning the fireplaces, fetching ingredients, and pretty much doing the grunt work any of the older workers—which was all of them—didn’t want to do. The first night, when one of the other servants showed Marian her room, she collapsed into the bed with a groan. _I haven’t been this tired since the beginning of my training_ , she thought. Marian lay in the bed, enjoying the fact she didn’t have to be on her feet. She drifted, not quite falling asleep but definitely not alert. When the bell tower rang midnight she was jerked awake. Stifling a sigh she rolled out of bed, landing lightly on her feet. She needed to explore without the eyes of the castle on her. Now was the real time to work. 

***

“If you can’t keep up, we can’t keep you Holly,” Maggie yelled at her from across the kitchen. Marian clenched the cloth in her fist. The last two nights of searching had yielded nothing and the lack of sleep was catching up with her. Marian closed her eyes and breathed, trying to keep her irritation away. Maggie was a good person, but sometimes… 

“Holly!” Maggie shouted. “I need you to carry this…” 

“Actually,” Marian turned towards the voice that interrupted them and saw Carver standing in the doorway. “The Sheriff would like the new kitchen girl to serve him his lunch.” 

Marian glanced at Maggie, looking frightened for a moment. But then she nodded and took the tray from the man who was going to serve it and handed it to Marian. “Remember,” she murmured. “Invisible.” 

She took the tray and followed Carver up a different set of stairs, keeping her head down to hide her confusion. Why was Maggie so worried? She didn’t know Marian’s true identity and the danger the Sheriff posed to her. Carver led her through the great hall, which was empty during this time. The Sheriff’s chair sat empty on the opposite side of the hall from the doors, in front of a cold hearth. Marian walked across the width of the hall to a set of private, winding stairs up to the second floor. This hallway was covered with tapestries. Carver stopped at a simple wooden door and knocked. 

“Come in,” a voice called. 

They entered, and Marian did her best to keep up the shy servant demeanor as she studied the Sheriff for the first time. The man sat at a desk in the right corner of the room, which was sparsely furnished with only a large rug and a bookshelf to decorate to the study. To the left was another open door where she could see the corner of a bed. As they entered the room the Sheriff looked up. He was a short man, shorter than Marian was expecting. His salted sable hair was closely trimmed, as was his beard, but he was balding on the top. His nose was rounded and his eyes were dark blue. He smiled as they entered. “Thank you, Carver. I will send the girl down when I’m finished.” 

Carver bowed and then backed out of the room. The Sheriff set down his quill and studied her. “You’re the new kitchen maid?” he asked her kindly. Marian nodded as she set the tray on his desk. As much as his voice and countenance told her that she had nothing to be afraid of, there was something too contrived, too carefully constructed in his tone that made her want to recoil and stay as far away from him as possible. 

She could feel his gaze on her as she drew back and stepped away from the desk. “You are quite pretty, underneath that mousy shyness,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth, like distant thunder. He was trying to put her at ease but it only made her more nervous. 

“You’re too kind milord,” she said. 

The Sheriff started cutting in to his roasted fowl and Marian tried to disappear into the wall, waiting for him to finish, but he was determined to make conversation. 

“So, Holly, is it?” he asked and Marian nodded. “Where are you from Holly?” 

“I do not know, milord. I was raised at the convent of St. Catherine’s.” 

The Sheriff nodded. “I see you did not want to take vows.” 

Marian ducked her head, as if she was ashamed for not wanting to do so. “No, milord. I wanted to see more of the world. Perhaps…” she trailed of but at an encouraging nod she continued. “Perhaps go to London someday,” she said, remembering the lessons Tuck and Robin had given her about other cities. 

He smiled and for a moment Marian thought that he would like nothing more than to keep her from going to London. “Well, I certainly wish you luck,” he said. Marian was about to answer when someone knocked on the door. She saw a flash of irritation cross the Sheriff’s face, but it was quickly replaced by calm. “Yes?” 

The door opened with a rush and one of the soldiers came in. “Sir,” he said, slightly breathless. “They’ve arrived. No incident.” 

Marian’s attention perked, but she was careful not to show any reaction other than indifference. She would bet anything he was talking about the latest tax collection. The Sheriff frowned and stood up from the desk, leaving his midday meal unfinished. “Nothing at all?” 

The soldier shook his head. “No, sir. The information was good.” The Sheriff shot him a sharp glance. She could see the thoughts turning in his head. 

“Sir, do you want to see—“ 

“Yes,” the Sheriff interrupted, stepping towards the door. “I’ll take it. Thank you, Holly.” 

As he left with the soldier trailing behind him, Marian knew he had given her a dismissal. She had no intention of listening. Marian snatched the tray and followed them out. She could hear their footsteps echoing down the hallway. When she passed a niche with a rather large vase in it she stashed the tray behind it and followed, going to the main staircase that led to the great hall. She saw their shadows disappear out of the great doors, which opened to the outdoor walkway and the courtyard. Marian slipped out the door and stayed back in the shadows, watching as the Sheriff strode to meet the cart and soldiers that surrounded it. The men moved out of his way like water parting before the bow of a ship. Marian stayed in the background, using her Ranger training even without the cloak to stay invisible. 

The Sheriff reached into the covered cart and came back out with a locked chest. One of the men had to help him carry the other end. The others ringed themselves around the chest as they carried it back up the stairs. Marian hid behind the open door as they passed and then trailed in behind the procession. They reentered the great hall one more time, crossing across the hall to a door opposite the one leading to the kitchen. As they disappeared down the stairs Marian waited. She could hear clanging, like iron bars being knocked together. 

_Well_ , she thought. _It’s a start_. She knew she didn’t have time to look any further and still stay undiscovered. When she made it back to the kitchens Maggie looked at her, concerned at Marian’s lengthy absence. But neither of them said anything and her little detour went otherwise unnoticed. 

“Holly,” Maggie said. “I need you to run to the market tomorrow morning and pick up a few things. Here’s the list,” she gave Marian a piece of parchment. “Be up early, it could take you most of the day.” 

Marina nodded and went to finish some more of her chores. “Holly,” Maggie called her back. “The Sheriff, did he say anything to you?” 

“No ma’am, not much,” Marian said. She saw the relief on the woman’s face for a moment and wondered at it. 

“Good,” she said. “Let’s keep it that way.” 


	10. Trapped

Marian wandered through the streets of Nottingham, noticing the people on the sides of the streets and in the alleys, looking on at the depleted crowds at the shopping stalls. The morning light was pale and illuminating. The sun highlighted the wounds and the ugly side of the town alongside whatever beauty was left. 

Marian came to a stall that was selling spices. She wasn’t sure what some of the spices on her list looked like so she paid close attention to the labels. She glanced up and smiled at the woman behind the stall, who was knitting and eyeing her carefully. 

“I hear the rosemary is homegrown,” a voice spoke at her shoulder. Marian started to smile without realizing it and her heart lifted in her chest. 

“Though I believe the thyme is more potent,” she said, turning to Robin. He was hooded, but she saw his smile underneath the fabric. His cloak shifted and his arm appeared, holding a daisy. 

“I believe the daisies are more beautiful.” 

Marian rolled her eyes while the woman behind the stall tried to stifle a laugh. “Hardly functional,” she replied. She turned and grabbed the thyme and paid the woman, who winked at her. Robin linked arms with her and they continued down the market way. She still had a few items on her list, but she was glad she could make contact with Robin before going back into the castle. 

“Are you all right?” he murmured. “We were starting to think you would never come out. If you were one more day late I was going to come in after you.” 

“I’m fine,” she insisted, ducking her head as if he had just told her a compliment. “I found the place where he keeps the collection. I’m hoping to get to it in the next few days.” 

“Good. The sooner you can get out, the better. And the Sheriff doesn’t suspect? What about Gisbourne?” 

They stopped at another stall, this one selling eggs. There weren't that many and they were kind of small but they were the only ones available. Marian purchased a dozen for Maggie and kept her voice low. “No, he doesn’t suspect.” She didn’t want to tell him about Maggie’s warnings or her strange conversation with the Sheriff. It would only worry him. “I haven’t seen Guy, so at least we don’t have that concern.” 

She looked up and noticed one of the Sheriff’s soldiers casually perusing the wares from various stalls behind them. Marian frowned feeling a trickle of apprehension. She could’ve sword she just saw the same man at the spice stall. She looked down at her basket, as if checking her inventory. Why would they follow her? She was just a kitchen maid, or so they were supposed to think. Was her cover blown? 

“I think we’re being followed,” she whispered. Robin turned her to face him, like he was checking her outfit while really looking over her shoulder. 

“Damn,” he said. “And he’s seen me with you. You can’t go back, he’ll report—“ 

“Hush,” she interrupted him. Nodding her thanks to the man selling the eggs, who was busy with another customer and only waved at them, she linked her arm with Robin’s again and led him down the street. “We just need to make them suspicious of me for the entirely wrong reason.” 

“What?” he asked. 

“What if we make them believe I’m secretly being courted,” Marian said. “It could work. That’s why you’re hood is up, why I haven’t mentioned anything. That could be why I left the convent…” she said thinking to herself. They stopped at one of the main crossroads watching as carts rolled by pulled by tired men and women. Soldiers were thicker here and their follower was speaking with another one now, looking in their direction. It wouldn’t be long until they came over and Robin was discovered. There was nowhere to run. Once they came close enough to recognize them, they would both be trapped. She needed to think of something, now, or they would be arrested and most likely executed. An idea dawned on her, one impulsive and crazy enough it might just throw the soldiers off of their trail. 

“Kiss me,” she said. 

Robin froze, and he seemed to pale a little. Someone shouted from across the street and a dog’s sharp bark cut through the air. 

“You want me to…” 

“Yes, Robin, kiss me. It’s not that horrifying of a concept,” Marian snapped. Her stomach clenched a little, not understanding why he was so upset. “Think about it. They’ll leave and my cover will be safe. I can get the money and get out.” 

“I—I don’t think it’s…” She stared at him while he stammered out some words. She didn’t want to think about why it was so startling to him. Marian glanced over her shoulder and saw two of the soldiers making their way through traffic, trying to appear nonchalant and uninterested but their acting didn’t pass muster. If she didn’t do something now, they were both going to get caught. 

“Forget it,” she said, churning her brain for ideas to keep her cover safe and Robin unidentified. “I’ll lead them off. Just get out of sight and get out of here. I’ll meet you again after my five days are up.” She turned her back on him, clutching the basket with her hand and walking to meet the soldiers. _A brother, perhaps?_ She thought. _No, I was raised in a convent. I wouldn’t know…_

Robin’s hand snatched her arm and spun her back around. She only had time to meet his eyes for an instant and suddenly his lips were on hers. The edge of his hood brushed her cheek and her breath caught in her throat. Heat raced over her skin and down her arms. At first the kiss was light, a kiss meant for others to see. But then it deepened as he pressed her closer to him. One arm wrapped around her waist and the other hand cradled her neck. She felt electric and free and she craved more of the light inside her that came from his kiss.Of their own accord her arms came up around his neck and pulled him closer to her. 

A horse whinnied, shattering the world that had for a moment consisted of only the two of them. They pulled apart and she finally drew a ragged breath. Marian was surprised to see Robin was just as short of breath as she was. She could feel her cheeks burning and, despite the fact the kiss was only for show, she contemplated what it would be like to kiss him again. 

_Wait, what?_ She pulled her thoughts up short. She did _not_ want to kiss him again, of course not. 

“Do,” Robin cleared his throat. “Do you think they’ll buy that?” 

Marian snatched up the dropped basket, pushing some stray strands of hair back behind her ear. Her hair had been perfectly pinned just a few moments ago. “I would hope so. Are they still coming towards us?” 

Robin looked up. “No, they’re um…they’re smiling. They’re both leaving now.” 

“All right,” she said. “We’re safe then. I’ll see you in two days.” Marian turned away from him to collect herself and start walking back to the castle. She tried to ignore the new tangle of emotions she was experience. She forced them to the back of her mind and locked them away, now wasn't the time. She just hadn’t expected to react that much when she first suggested it. The kiss was only for her cover. Right? 

“Marian,” Robin said. She stopped once more and looked back at him. “Be careful.” 

She smiled, trying to play it light. “I always am,” she said. Then she ducked her head, donning the servant guise once more, and started making her way back to Nottingham Castle leaving a flustered and very confused outlaw leader behind her. 

Marian got back to the castle late, slipping in through one of the service doors and rushing to the kitchen. She dropped the supplies on the table, expecting a sharp rebuke from Maggie, but the cook only grunted at her and then instructed her on which rooms needed cleaning. She didn't even mention the three broken eggs that resulted from the dropped basket. But Marian didn't question it and didn't waste time getting to work. Work would keep her distracted. She went through the castle, avoiding people as much as possible, her mind shuffling through ideas of how to get to the cache of taxes below her feet. 

While cleaning that afternoon she passed one of the guards who had been following her. He winked and she blushed, not entirely sure her reaction was faked. The rest of the day she was flustered and it was hard to believe nobody in the castle had caught wind of her morning errands and the little…distraction she had to perform to keep her cover. It felt like her world had shifted and she couldn’t quite figure out how, but no one else seemed to realize. 

The sun made its way across the sky, but Marian hardly noticed. She was cleaning the last of the fireplaces in one of the tower rooms, sweeping away the dust and cold ashes, when she heard footsteps on the stairs. She had missed dinner in her rush to catch up with her cleaning, since her shopping trip had cut in to her morning. She rushed to put away her supplies and they clanged against her tin bucket as she threw them in. She stood up, but when she looked towards the door Carver was already there. 

“The Sheriff wants you,” he said. 

A chill of fear ran down her spine. “Now?” she asked. Carver nodded and she realized how completely emotionless he looked. What was he hiding? 

“Yes, now,” he replied. “You can leave your things. Someone else will come and fetch them.” 

Alarm bells went off inside her head. No one was ever allowed to leave evidence of their cleaning. She had only been here a few days and already knew that golden rule. Whatever it was must be important. Or very bad. 

Marian walked through the castle, mostly empty at this point in the evening. She traversed the length of the hallway alone, Carver leaving her to her own devices now that she had been summoned to the Sheriff once already and knew the way. When she arrived at her destination, she knocked on the door. 

“Enter,” the Sheriff said. Marian pushed the door open and stepped just inside the threshold. She noticed a large clay jug on the desk and his clothes were slightly disheveled. 

“Milord?” Marian asked. 

“Shut the door, Holly,” he said. His voice had lost significant warmth since her last visit and she closed the door with some trepidation. It was only her long training that kept her calm and her disguise in place. 

“I need you to understand something,” he began. “Nottingham belongs to me.” 

She didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't this. She cleared her throat and spoke, since he seemed to be waiting for her to respond. “Beggin your pardon, milord. I'm not sure I understand.” 

“Nottingham—and its people—belongs to me. That includes you, Holly,” the Sheriff said. His back had been facing her, but now he turned around and took deliberate steps towards her. “You. Belong. To me.” 

Marian took a step back, unable to respond. He didn’t need her response. “I’ve had reports you saw a young man in town. Care to explain?” he asked. 

_I don’t need to explain anything to you_ she thought. But she couldn't tell him that, she had to keep up her disguise. He didn't seem to know it was Robin and if she could keep up their ruse then he would be safe. “Sir, he…he was courting me while I was still in the convent,” the words stumbled out making her appear frightened. “It’s really why I wanted to leave and come here. We’ve kept it a secret for so long… Please, I don't understand. 

He nodded and stepped closer to her. “Well. Let’s make something clear. Everyone in this castle is under my control, including you.” His hand shot out. Before she could react his fingers were twisted in her hair and he yanked her towards him. Marian let out a cry and stumbled forward. “I don’t care if you’re married, engaged, courting, or unattached. I have whoever I want, whenever I want. You court with my permission because I, and I alone, am in charge. And you did not get my permission. You went behind my back, Holly. You betrayed me.” 

Her eyes watered from the pain as he tightened his hold. She could smell the ale on his breath and Marian realized she had made a mistake. She had needed to be a lot more careful and had misjudged the Sheriff’s behavior. He needed power and control and anything he thought might threaten his control was something to be dealt with. Anyone, especially, it seemed, the women, who didn't do what he wanted or expected were punished. She knew he was not someone to be trifled with but she hadn't been prepared to deal with someone who could become enraged so quickly. And now she began to understand why Maggie didn’t want her here. 

He shoved her against the wall and her shoulders ached with the impact. She could feel his breath on her neck as he leaned closer, inches from her face. He traced her cheek gently with his other finger and her stomach started to roll. “I think it’s time you learned your lesson.” 

Panic tightened her throat. She could not let this happen. She would not let this happen. Marian reached up to grab the hand holding her head and then kicked out with all the strength her training had given her, right between his legs. The Sheriff groaned and loosened his hold on her hair. Marian twisted his hand away, yanking out some of her hair in the process, and then whirled, colliding her elbow with his face with as much momentum as possible. She knew she had scored a hit when she heard something crack. 

The sheriff staggered back, his hand on his face. Blood dripped between his fingers. “You little bitch,” he said. His voice sounded clogged, speaking around the blood from his broken nose. Suddenly his left arm swung around and his fist collided with her face. Marian fell to the ground, her eyes watering and seeing stars. Her head pounded from the impact, but she rolled to the side away from him and scrambled to her feet. She needed a weapon. She needed to defend herself. Her gaze fell to the mug on the Sheriff’s desk. Marian stumbled towards it, her head bent like she was recovering from his punch. She could already feel her face start to swell so she didn’t have to act too much. 

The Sheriff laughed behind her. “You’ve got spirit, but there is nowhere for you to go,” he said. Shifting her body to keep her movements hidden, Marian’s hands closed around the mug’s handle while he spoke. “I _will_ break you, do not doubt it. Nobody is coming to rescue you.” He stepped closer and she could feel his looming presence at her back. 

“I—I don’t…” she said. 

“You don’t what?” 

Marian spun and brought the mug crashing into the side of his head, shattering the cup into little pieces. While he stumbled she grabbed the desk chair and brought that down on his head with all her might. The Sheriff’s eyes rolled up and he fell to the floor with a heavy thump, unconscious. 

“I don’t need anyone to rescue me,” she spat. 

Marian’s hands shook as she stared at him. She was angry and afraid and she wanted to kill him. If she had her bow with her, there was no telling what damage she would do. With a sick certainty Marian knew she was not the first to be assaulted. How many other women had he brought up here? Were any of them able to stop him? But she couldn’t kill him, not yet. If she killed him now, there would never be peace. He needed to face trial when the King came back, to be brought to justice and lawfully disgraced. At least that’s what Robin and John thought. As much as she hated it, she had to follow their lead. 

“It’s now or never, Marian,” she said to herself. She knelt beside the Sheriff and slipped her hands under his arms. Straining, she dragged his limp body into the bedroom and dumped him there. She took the sheets of the bed and, using a shard from the broken mug to help her, ripped the sheet into strips. She proceeded to tie and gag the Sheriff so, when he did wake up, it would take him longer to get out of his bonds and come after her. Then she slipped the master ring of keys off of his belt and tucked them into the band of her skirt. Marian closed the door to the bedroom and left. 

After checking the hall for guards or servants, Marian walked away with her head down. Somehow her shirt had gotten ripped and she knew she looked disheveled. But that was probably not an unusual occurrence, she thought with another surge of anger and fear. Marian made her way to the kitchens, hoping it would be empty at this time of the night. She needed a sack to carry the money she was going to steal and she didn’t have time to go back to her own quarters. 

Using a hidden servant’s stair, Marian fairly ran to the kitchens. With no one to observe her she couldn’t afford to waste time walking. She didn’t know how long the Sheriff would stay unconscious or how long it would take for him to get untied. She did not want to still be in the castle when he freed himself. 

Reaching the end of the staircase, Marian found the door she needed and opened it, peeking her head around the door. She breathed a small sigh of relief at the empty room and then walked in, going to a cupboard where she knew there would be empty burlap sacks from the vegetables carted it last week. 

She moved some baskets and snatched the bag off of the floor when a voice spoke behind her. “He got to you, then.” 

Marian whirled, unused to being surprised. But her nerves were so frayed she didn’t even notice Maggie’s entrance. 

“Almost,” she said. Maggie stood at the servants’ door with her arms folded, a sad and hopeless expression on her face. 

“He always gets to them, sooner or later,” she said. 

“You knew,” Marian said flatly. 

Maggie nodded. “Aye.” 

“And you let it happen.” Her voice quivered, betraying the emotions she was trying to keep contained. 

Maggie looked sad and older than her years. “I have mouths to feed, back home. I do my job here and they don’t starve. It comes with a cost.” 

Marian felt sick. How could she stand to work in the same place with someone who…but she looked in the older women’s eyes and realized the knowledge was weighing on her. What else was she going to do for the people who depended on her? 

“Listen,” Maggie said. “When you get down there go all the way to the end. On the right is a small door that leads to an empty room. Back left corner, midways up is a loose brick. Turn it.” 

Marian frowned. “How..?” 

“Get going, girl. And a tip? Use the garbage shoot. Drops right outside of the castle into the city. City gates are closed for the night though, you’ll have to come up with something else to get all the way out.” 

“Thank you,” Marian said. Maggie nodded once and then left. Marian was on her own once more. 

She wasted no time. Foregoing the servant’s hallways Marian left the kitchen and came right up into the great hall. Using her Ranger’s training and previous night excursions around the castle, she moved smoothly through the shadows to the stair she had seen the soldiers use to put the money away. The torches were cold and unlit so she placed her hand on the wall and felt her way down the stairs, feeling for the edge of each step with her toe. Her nerves cried out to her to hurry but she locked her muscles in place. A broken neck from falling would slow her down much more than taking her time. 

When she reached the landing sooner than she expected, she realized she was in a small enclosed space. Reaching out with both arms she could touch the walls, and the air felt close and dense. Holding her hand out in front of her Marian walked a few paces before she touched wood. She had no trouble finding the handle and key hole in the dark. During one of the early years of her training, Will had blindfolded her for a whole day, forcing her to use her other senses to get around. He had done that off and on until she was almost as comfortable working without her sight as much as she was with it. 

Keeping one hand on the keyhole she fumbled with the keys in her skirt. There were quite a few of them so she started from the right and planned to work her way through. Luck was with her for on the third key she heard the click of the lock being undone. Pushing the door open, and keeping the key in her left hand so she would remember which one not to use again, Marian found the right wall and started walking as fast as she could. Sometimes her hand would run over wood, other doors that led to rooms she probably didn’t want to know about. She kept her left arm bent in front of her. When she bumped into a wall that signaled the end of the corridor she banged her nose on her forearm, wincing at the pain from her blackened eye. 

She repeated the unlocking process, this time going through five keys before finding the right one. She silently cursed the time it was taking but she refused to leave here empty handed. If she couldn’t kill the Sheriff she was going to take what he loved the most—his money. 

Marian stepped into the room and felt the stone under her feet shift. She dropped to the ground on instinct, feeling the air of a passing arrow across the top of her head. She heard a clatter as it hit the wall behind her and fell to the ground. Marian inched her way over to the left wall, staying low. She stayed there for a moment, listening to her heart pound away in her ears. She muttered some choice swear words she learned from the Skandians, mixed in with those she learned from Robin’s men, to tell the empty room exactly what she thought of its traps. 

It was difficult to get going “I’m not leaving,” she said. She ordered her body to move. After years of training it to obey her, she moved, testing every step as she did so. Her fingers brushed the stone wall on her right, every sense tuned so high she felt she would snap at any moment from the strain. When she reached the corner without another incident her skin crawled with apprehension rather than relief. She started pushing stones from the bottom up. Her heart was sinking as she moved farther and farther up the wall until, finally, one of them moved under her touch. Using more force, she pushed it. There was a scraping noise to her right and she ran her hands along the back wall. When she felt empty space, Marian realized the stone opened another door. The air was thicker in here, more stale, and her mind painted a picture that resembled an alcove more than a room. 

She tested the floor in front of her and when it didn’t move walked more confidently into the open space. Marian walked forward and extended her arms. Suddenly pain burst in her foot and she yelped. _What was that?_ She thought. _I didn’t touch anything_. Lowering her arms she realized she had run into a sort of stone table that only reached to her waist. Running her hands along the cool, smooth stone top her fingers brushed the rough surface of carved wood. “Hello, sweetie,” she murmured. She found the box. The master box, it seemed like. Picking it up Marian felt the bands of iron holding it together, the shift of weight and clink of coins that told her it was definitely full. But her grim triumph turned to ash when she felt the keyhole. The box was locked and this keyhole was much too small for any of the keys she had to work to with. 

Marian was running out of time. She could feel it slipping away by the second, which intensified the tingle on the back of her neck. So she stuffed the box into the sack, wrapped the excess cloth around it to disguise its shape, and left the room. Her muscles quivered, wanting to run, but she took her time and used the same path she had when entering. An arrow in the back now would not be good. 

She made it to the hallway without incident and she started to feel a little release of tension. Leaving the door open because she wanted the Sheriff to know he had been robbed, she ran down the hallway using the wall as a guide once again. Marian had been so used to the dark that as she neared the entrance to the great hall she was able to make out some of the individual stones in the wall beside her. When she finally made it to the door, Marian closed it and locked it behind her, stuffing the keys into the sack with the money box. She was out, but what worried her was the fact that she could also see the details of the door. She didn’t need touch to find the keyhole. This meant it was getting lighter in the castle and later in the morning, which meant it wouldn’t be long until someone discovered the Sheriff. Marian walked up the stairs and skirted around the edge of the room, avoiding the gaze of some of the servants who were cleaning. It was later than she thought, which meant more people would be starting to wake up. She could see the door that led to the kitchen and the garbage shoot, which was her goal. She was almost there. 

“Hey, you!” 

Marian stopped in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat. She glanced over her shoulder and only her Ranger training kept her from stepping back in shock. The man who had called out was striding towards her, his long legs eating up the distance across the hall quickly. He had come in through the main entrance; she could see the open door, letting in a beam of early morning light. His clothes were travel stained and worn, and his hair was pulled back. The man was scowling, an expression she recognized. 

It was Sir Guy. 


	11. Escape

Marian suppressed a shiver of fear and bobbed a curtsey to Sir Guy, keeping her eyes averted and raising the pitch of her voice. "Yes, milord?" She could have thanked the Sheriff now for the punch to her face because it helped disguise some of her features and lessened the risk of discovery. 

Sir Guy stared at her, frowning. "I know you," he said. 

Her stomach flipped and her throat closed up. "Me, sir? Pardon your lordship, but I think you're mistaken. I'm Holly, the new kitchen maid." 

He seemed a little confused and the longer she stood there the more the risk there was he actually would recognize her. Marian kept her eyes on the ground desperately praying his attention would pass soon. There was a crash as someone dropped a tray behind him and Guy turned, distracted by the verbal tirade Carver was giving the unfortunate servant. 

He shook his head as the mess was cleaned up and then turned back to her. "I need you to take me to the Sheriff, where is he?" he said. 

A chill of apprehension ran down her spine. Someone in her position saying no to someone like Sir Guy was bound to raise suspicions, but she had no choice. If she took him to the Sheriff she was done for. 

"Milord," she stammered, "I—I just came from the Sheriff." She shifted uncomfortably, trying to hint to Sir Guy what she was almost sure he guessed. "I can't go back there, Sir," she whispered. "He told me not to until…until he sent for me again." There was a catch in her voice that hinted she was close to tears. It surprised her because she definitely didn't plan to put it there. 

It seemed to work because she noticed his face soften and he looked sickened, but she knew the emotion wasn't directed at her. "He is in his chambers, then?" 

"I believe so, milord," Marian said. 

"Very well," Sir Guy nodded to himself. "I will see him myself. Carry on with…what is that?" he asked, looking at the sack in her hands. 

Marian kept her face very still. "It's a delivery for Maggie, sir," Marian said. "Some special spices for the kitchen. It has to be packaged special." 

Sir Guy looked thoughtful. "Well, I'm sure whatever Maggie's using it for will be delicious. You're dismissed," he said. Marian bobbed another curtsey and turned around, feeling his stare on the back of her neck like an itch. 

Once she was out of view she let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. This time, she ran. Guy was on her way to the Sheriff's room and even if he hadn't already come to, her time was still going to be short. Marian flew down the stairs, rushed through the kitchen without taking the time to look at who saw her, and ran into the compost room. She opened the circular wooden door and peered into the black chute. She saw daylight at the bottom along with a large wooden cart full of food scraps and unknowable compost that came from daily living. Without any further thought Marian clutched the bag and box to her chest and slid into the chute, letting gravity pull her down until she landed with a thud in the cart. 

Marian wrinkled her nose, uncomfortable with sitting in garbage no matter how dire the situation. She struggled out of the cart and brushed loose food scraps off of her clothing. Looking around, she noticed the rays of sun coming up over the walls. She was in a small courtyard with only an archway and three walls separating it from the town. Marian walked to the archway, looking around to see if anyone was around. Thankfully, it was still early enough in the morning that the only people up where those who were setting up for business, and nobody in their right mind did business next to a garbage heap. 

She walked out of the courtyard and went into town, weaving through alleys and behind houses, hoping to throw off any pursuit while still heading in the general direction of the gates. There were a few people out who were giving her some strange looks, but at this point Marian didn't care. If she could just get out of Nottingham, she would be safe. Robin and his men were still in Sherwood and she didn't have time to wait for him to get here. She skirted the business street and felt a wash of relief when she could see guards opening the gate to start the morning traffic. She caught a glimpse of a group of people gathered outside the gate waiting for entry. Most people at this time of day were coming in but there were also a few people waiting to get out. Marian had almost merged with the waiting citizens when a raucous clanging broke the still morning air. She jumped and whirled around in fear at the castle. A flock of startled birds rose into the sky, frightened by the noise. The alarm bells were ringing. 

***

Robin stared into the small, pale flames of their morning campfire. He could hear the murmurings of his men around him, sometimes punctuated by quiet bursts of laughter. He tried to strategize, tried to think of what they needed to do next and plan for possible failures. But he couldn't. He would start off thinking about numbers, places for ambush, the list of people they needed to visit but in the next breath his mind wandered again, to the same place it always did since yesterday. The Kiss. He could still remember the shock he felt when she suggested it to distract the guards. He remembered the way his heart raced when she said it because as soon as she did he realized that he actually wanted to. He _wanted_ to kiss her. He could still feel her lips on his, the way they had both unintentionally pressed together. Did she feel it too? Was it just for show? 

Robin ran both hands through his hair, and clenched his fingers. He was now more confused than ever. He looked up and noticed John watching him. "What?" he asked, trying to hide his embarrassment. 

"You seem distracted," he said. 

Robin shook his head. "I'm fine." John glanced at the men around him and then moved closer to Robin, who looked at him with new concern. "What is it?" 

"Rob, I hate to be the one to say this," he hesitated and looked around again to check for anyone listening in. "But there has got to be an explanation for the Sheriff avoiding our patrols so well." 

Robin sighed, thinking of that particular other worry among the many he had. "I know." 

"You've been thinking it too, then?" John asked. 

He nodded. "The only way he could be this successful is if someone is feeding him information. But…why? Why would someone do that?" 

John looked at him with sympathy and a lot of worry. "If someone really is feeding information to the Sheriff, the more pressing question is how are we going to find out who it is?" 

"And how much do they know," Robin added quietly. Then a thought that froze him with dread entered his mind. "Marian. If they know about Marian and they told him…" 

The look of alarm on John's face had Robin getting to his feet. He was trying to figure out what he had to do to get her out of there when Will came running up to the camp. "Will?" he asked, noticing how out of breath the boy was. The others had stopped talking at Will's arrival and rose to their feet as well. 

"The alarm bells are ringing," Will said. 

Robin frowned. "Did you see anything?" Will shook his head. Everyone was thinking of only one person who might have set off those bells. 

"Robin, once those bells go off you know they close the gates," Alan, who was one of the first to volunteer for this recon group, said. "It will be almost impossible for her to get out." He looked worried and tense and Robin didn't blame him. 

"You're right. We don't have a lot of time. Will you come with me," Robin said, squaring his shoulders. A young man with his little brother was less suspicious than a group of cloaked, armed men. "Everyone else, stay here but be ready to move as soon as we bet back." The bells were ringing and now it didn't matter what had happened, only that he had to get her out of there. He didn't realize it, but everyone else heard the steely command that came upon him in situations like this. The camp jumped to action and packed up the what little supplies they had brought. Will and Robin didn't have far to go before they reached the open field in front of Nottingham. He had picked a location that was hidden, but close enough to aid Marian if she needed it. 

The bells had stopped ringing by the time the two of them arrived. As they neared the gate, Robin put his hood up when they heard heated voices. There was a small group of people crowded at the gate yelling at the two guards who were blocking the entrance and exit. There were quite a few people outside and even a small group on the inside. Robin could tell the guards were having a hard time keeping control of the crowd and he could detect some nervousness under their gruff demeanor. 

"You know the rules!" one of them shouted. He sported a beard and there were lines on his face, marking him as the more experienced of the two. "When the bells go off no one comes in or out. Now clear out so we can shut the gate!" 

There was some angry mumbling. "Ya cannot do this!" one of the farmers from the outside shouted. "The only business we get is in the town. Ya'll bleed us dry with taxes anyhow!" 

The mumbling grew louder in agreement. Robin scanned the crowd, looking desperately for Marian. Will tugged his arm and then nodded to the left. Robin looked over the milling heads and then his blood ran cold. He saw her, hanging on the edge, waiting for an opportunity to slip out. But what made the fury run through his veins was the darkening bruise and swelling on her face. Someone had punched her. Then he noticed the way her hair looked to have been torn out of its bun and the rip on the shoulder of her shirt. Their eyes met and she smiled wryly at him, raising her eyebrows in a challenge. 

Robin tried his best not show his anger and smiled back. "Will, head out," he murmured. "It might get dangerous here, quick.' 

"I'm not going anywhere," Will said mutinously. "I'm helping get her out." 

"Will!" Robin hissed. The boy glared back defiantly. Robin didn't have time to argue. "You are in so much trouble when we get back," he said and then he threw back his hood and sauntered into the middle of the restless crowd. 

"Well now, gentlemen!" he called out. He noticed Marian rolling her eyes and he smiled. She was just going to have to deal with his plan. "What have we got here?" 

The crowd looked confused for a moment, in accord with the guards for once. He started to hear whispers as he was recognized by the people. "Well?" he asked again. 

"They ain't lettin' us go, Robin," one of the men trying to get out of the city said. 

"Robin Hood?" the younger of the two guards questioned. They both drew their swords and Robin raised his hands. 

"Swords? I'm flattered!" he said. "But, let's be honest with ourselves, shall we?" He said, looking at them like they were wayward children. "Those aren't going to work." 

"Oh really?" the young one asked. The crowd's attitude started to turn even more hostile than before as the soldier stepped towards him. Hood smiled cheekily and clasped his hands behind his back. The two guards looked warily around them and backed off slightly. The crowd started to close in and he flicked his eyes over in Marian's direction. He saw her slip around the edge of the archway, skirting the edges of the crowd. Then she joined the angry group of people on the outside, hanging out on the back so it wouldn't seem like she was escaping. 

"Now," Robin said. "You folks are worried about getting your money's worth?" 

There was a grumble of assent and Robin looked to the soldiers. "And you two can't let them in, right?" 

The guards glared. "That's right, Hood. And we also have orders to arrest you." 

Robin feigned an injured look. "But then I won't be able to help you." 

"And how do you think you're going to do that?" the old guard asked. 

Robin smiled. It was a smile that made anyone in the Sheriff's pay extremely nervous. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't there a strong box inside your guard office with the tolls you collect from those entering the city?" 

"That is no concern of yours!" the older guard snapped. 

"Now it seems to me, we can end this amicably if you were to, say, distribute that toll as compensation for these good people's lost profit." 

The grumbling rose to shouting at Robin's suggestion and the two guards finally realized the hopelessness of their situation. They were sadly outnumbered, and with Robin Hood at the helm of this mob they didn't have a chance until reinforcements arrived from the castle. The two guards glanced at each other, the younger one obviously leaving the decision to the elder. Robin pinpointed the moment when he gave it up. The man looked around at the angry faces on all sides and then met Robin's gaze once again. 

"You're going to pay for this Hood," he snarled. 

"Actually, I believe it is you who is going to pay at the moment," Robin replied. The villagers cheered as the guards sheathed their swords. But just as they were about to enter the guardhouse someone shouted. 

"It's the Sheriff!" The guards turned back and sneered, the presence of the Sheriff putting some steel back into their spine. Robin could now hear the growing sounds of booted feet stomping down the road and getting closer by the minute. 

The crowd closed in around Robin, pushing him back as hands guided him away. He crouched down and pulled the hood over his head once again. The crowd swarmed the gates and guards, hindering the Sheriff and his men while three figures disengaged from the crowd and ran off towards Sherwood. 

By the time they made it back to the main campsite she was tired. Marian had done her best avoiding questions about her injuries. It helped when she showed the men the box of money she had managed to steal, though John and Robin both looked at her with a more critical eye. But she couldn't tell them what happened, not yet. She just…wasn't ready. 

They entered the camp and it didn't take long for those who were waiting for their return to notice. 

"You made it!" Hannah said with a relieved smile. She and Jenny greeted them and others trickled in behind them to hear what news Marian and the others may have brought. "We…we weren't sure whether or not to be worried." 

Marian tried to give Hannah a reassuring smile and winced as her swollen face pulled a little. She felt unclean and as far from triumphant as you could get. Accomplishing their goal—getting the money—just didn't seem to matter right now. But she couldn't let them know. "Worry about me? Hannah, you should know better," she joked. 

She winced inwardly at the way her voice sounded and it was clear the others could tell something was wrong. "I'm going to let Sky know I'm safe and sound," she mumbled. Marian turned away, ignoring the worry and concern on her friends' faces. 

When she greeted Sky, who was resting next to Marian's tent, the little pony gently butted her head against Marian's chest and nickered. At that small gesture of comfort she couldn't hold on anymore. Marian buried her head in Sky's coat and cried. 

***

Marian tried to act her normal self, but her friends noticed she was more subdued than usual. Jenny tried to distract her with learning snares and traps, and Hannah and Gen made her smile with little actions but for those who knew her they could tell she was hiding something. She didn't talk much about her time in Nottingham and Robin didn't have any way to approach her about what had happened, so he didn't. 

They finished a conference one day and Robin watched her leave his tent with her head bowed, frustrated with they way she had closed him out. She was one of the first to slip out today when usually she would stay and chat. They were nowhere nearer to figuring out who the leak might be, or why exactly the Sheriff was sending out messengers on random nights. He didn't blame her for not figuring it out. If she had stayed any longer in the castle it was clear she wouldn't have come out. But now they had no information. 

"Rob, can I speak to you?" John asked. He looked decidedly uncomfortable and Robin frowned. Everyone else had gone so it must be something he didn't want them to hear. 

"What is it John?" he asked. "You know you always can always speak freely." 

John rubbed the back of his neck. "Robin, you know how the Sheriff only recently started evading our ambushes." 

"Yes," he answered warily. 

"Who is the most recent addition to our group?" 

Robin glared. "What's your point?" 

"Something is bothering her," John said. "I don't like to think it any more than you do, but what if the reason that she wasn't found out by the informant was because…she is the informant." 

Robin had trouble keeping his tone under control. "How could you even begin to think that? John, you know her! She would never betray us." 

John frowned. "Robin, I'm here to make you think about things you may not want to. That's part of the deal. It was only after Marian came to us the Sheriff started getting the better of us. You think that's a coincidence?" 

"Yes," he growled. "There is another explanation, there has to be." 

"I'm not sorry I suggested it, Robin," John said quietly. "I have a hard time believing it, and I hope to God it's not true. But you have to consider all the options. Somehow, we're going to have find out who it is." 

***

There was a satisfying _thunk_ as her knife flew true and buried itself in the center of her target. Marian was breathing heavily, sweat running down her face and between her shoulder blades. She was nearing the end of her daily practice sessions, which she had started doing after her escape from Nottingahm to stay in shape. After the meeting, she needed to be by herself and this was the perfect outlet for her frustrations. They had talked in circles about finding the leak and she knew she disappointed everyone with her lack of information about the Sheriff. Stealing the money could only go so far to help their cause. 

First, she practiced with her bow and then her knives. Next she performed unarmed combat forms, moving from one position to another in a deadly dance, since she was without a partner. Finally, to push herself, she would combine her forms with throwing and shooting at targets. It was a game she had started playing her second year as Will's apprentice to see how fast and how accurate she could be. She looked with pride at the knife solidly in the target. 

"When I get back, Will had better watch out," she muttered, smiling. She had never been able to beat her master, and she knew it was a long shot she ever would, but it was fun to tease him anyway. 

"Nice throw." 

Marian looked up and saw Robin leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. She grinned at him, forgetting restraint in the satisfaction of her hard work and training. "You should see me when I'm not out of practice," she joked. He smiled and his eyes lit up. For a second, she remembered their kiss in the marketplace and the way he held her. They were alone then, as now, and her cheeks flushed. But then she remembered her encounter with the Sheriff afterwards and her smile faltered. 

"Marian, I know something has been bothering you," Robin uncrossed his arms and stepped closer to her. She had to force herself not to back away from him. Instead she shrugged her cloak farther around her shoulders and let it's warmth envelop her. "There, well, there are some people who are concerned." 

Something in the way he said it made Marian take a closer look at him. He appeared wary and uncertain which could be attributed to anything. But something told her there was more going on. 

"What do you mean?" she asked. "I'm fine." 

"It's just…" Robin huffed and then straightened his shoulders. He looked like someone about to jump off a cliff without any idea what was at the bottom. "We know it's suspicious, the way the Sheriff has been avoiding our patrol." 

Marian nodded, not catching on. "I know. I told you what he said when the taxes arrived." He hesitated and she started to worry. "Robin, what's going on?" 

"Some people, well, they are starting to wonder about what else the Sheriff might know," he finished lamely. 

Marian shook her head. "I don't..." she stopped. His was uncomfortable and couldn't hold her gaze very long. It was like he was ashamed. 

"You—you think it's me?" she asked softly. "You think I would do that to you?" She was surprised how much it hurt, his belief she might betray them. 

"No!" he protested, reaching out to take her hand. "No, Marian I don't. But I have to put their concerns to rest and I can't do that unless you tell me what is going on." 

She jerked her hand away, glaring at him. "I'm sorry I haven't proved myself enough to you," she said harshly, "that you even have to ask if it was me." 

Robin's jaw clenched and fisted his hands into the pockets of his breaches. "I don't want to have to ask if it was anyone, let alone you!" 

"I trusted you with the truth about me," Marian responded. "And after that you still think I would work for _him_?" 

He frowned a little, catching the emphasis she put on the last word. "Then how did you get out of there without him knowing about you?" 

She had been asking herself the same question ever since they realized there was a traitor in the camp. If the Sheriff knew about their patrol schedule then it would be safe to assume he should have known who Marian was the moment she came in into the castle. But that hadn't been the case and she couldn't figure out why. 

"Marian, anyone who knows you can see you've been hiding something. I don't know what it is, but you can trust me," he urged. 

That snapped her out of her reverie. "Oh, like you trust me?" She could see that comment stung but at the moment she didn't care. In the back of her mind she knew it was logical for him to wonder but the other part of her was angry. If she was being fair, the anger wasn't solely directed at him. She was angry with herself. 

Marian brushed past him hoping this conversation would be easier if she wasn't looking at him. She went to the target and pulled out her knife, inspecting the blade to keep from having to turn back around. 

"I'm worried about you," he muttered. She could hear the sincerity in his voice but refused to turn around. He kept talking, almost as if she wasn't there. "I know you aren't the leak. I know it and I will stand by you. But what am I supposed to say to the others who aren't as certain? Who don't understand? 'Trust me because I say so, because I…" He stopped and she picked at a piece of straw that was sticking out from the target, waiting for him to continue. "I won't lie to them Marian. They would follow me without explanation, or at least I thought they would." She heard the pain in his voice. He felt betrayed too. One of the men he trusted, who he thought would follow him anywhere, was giving them up to their enemy. He thought it was a reflection on him and it brought into question everyone around him. "But I can't have resentment in the ranks and I'm afraid that's what will happen if we don't find the real traitor soon. Rumors will start to spread. 

Slowly she sheathed her knife, wavering. She needed to tell someone even if what she was feeling didn't make any sense. She could hear Robin sigh and then the leaves on the ground rustled as he started to move away. 

"It was after I came back to the castle," she blurted. The noise stopped and she knew he was listening. Taking a deep breath and pulling her cloak tighter, she turned to face him. "I got back and was doing chores. It wasn't until late that he called me up to his chambers," she said. Marian proceeded to relate the assault in the Sheriff's room, Robin growing paler with the telling. 

"I got away," she said, hearing her voice waver but distantly as if she was listening to someone else. "I got away but I shouldn't have. Why should I get to escape when I'm sure all the women before me had to suffer so much more than I did? He didn't get to do what he wanted. I stopped him." Marian met Robin's eyes. "So why do I feel so awful? I feel sick about it. What right have I to feel this way, to feel _weak_ , when I was able to get away? I'm supposed to be a Ranger!" she shouted. "I'm supposed to be the protector of the country and it's people and I let one perverted…bastard make me feel vulnerable and ashamed. I got away, but I feel like he still won." 

She didn't know when the tears had started, only that her cheeks now felt wet. 

"Marian," Robin murmured. He stepped closer and suddenly she was leaning into him and his arms wrapped around her shoulders. She felt safe, like the way she felt when wrapped in her Ranger cloak and the fabric kept her warm against the mist and cold. 

"You aren't weak," she heard him say. His voice was muffled against her hair. "You're human. It's okay to feel vulnerable and angry and scared because of what he did to you, what he," his voice tightened and she felt the slightest increase in pressure from his arms, like he wanted to keep her same. "What he might have done to you. That doesn't take away your strength. I wouldn't want anyone else protecting me and having my back but you." Robin pulled away and held her at arms length, looking into her eyes. "He attacked you Marian. You don't have any less right to your feelings than others who were his victims and it's okay to let it affect you. But his actions don't define who you. 

"You _are_ a Ranger. You're an ambassador to another world. You're a member of my team and Gen's favorite story teller," Marian laughed softly and Robin smiled. "You are my friend, Marian Harwood, the mysterious cloaked woman who can beat me at my own game. He cannot take that away. 

"He didn't win," Robing said with conviction. "He will keep on losing until King Richard returns. We will beat him and when his bill comes due I'll make sure he pays for every single crime. He will know justice." Robin's voice was steel and she thought with a vengeance that she wouldn't want to be in the Sheriff's shoes when Robin Hood and his band came for him. But she did want to be there. If she got revenge then maybe she would stop feeling this way. It helped, a little, to finally tell someone about it and Robin didn't seem to think any less of her for it. But deep down Marian knew the only way she would feel better was to make sure the Sheriff paid, one way or another. 

The two of them returned to camp together and already Marian seemed a little bit more like her usual self. She excused herself and went to sit with Hannah while the two of them did some much-needed mending. Robin watched her go, wishing he could do more. But there was thing he could definitely clear up now. 

***

John was chatting with Lucy over the remains of the morning fire. Robin cleared his throat as he approached the two of them. When they stopped and looked up he smiled. "Mind if I steal John for a bit, Lucy? There are a few things I need to talk with him about." 

Lucy waved a hand, granting permission. "Go on, I've business to be about anyhow." 

Robin grabbed Little John by the arm and dragged him away. "It's not her," Robin said under his breath. 

John raised his eyebrows. "Rob, I told you—" 

"I know what was bothering her," Robin interrupted him. "And it's not guilt. She didn't betray us John." 

"What happened?" John asked. 

Robin shook his head. "Something happened while she was in the castle that had nothing to do with whoever is leaking information. It's not really for me to say," he answered John's questioning look. "But I know for certain it isn't her." 

Little John rubbed his face. "All right. I had a hard time believing it to begin with but you're the boss. I believe you. Unfortunately that means we're back to square one. We know it's not Marian. So who else could it be?" 

Robin glanced around the camp, watching the people he thought were loyal to the end. Some were laughing or arguing good-naturedly. Some sat by themselves doing everyday chores and others had already started crowding around the community fire for supper. All he considered friends or, at least, comrades. Which one of them would do this? 

"That's the problem, John," he replied. "I have no idea." 


	12. It's Just a Distraction

"Are you sure about this?" Marian asked, tugging the dress uncomfortably. Her breath misted in the air. It had been some three months since she told Robin all that happened at castle Nottingham. It was the middle of winter and Hannah decided, of all things, to throw a Winter Solstice party. She claimed it was time they had a bit of cheer, considering all they have had to endure these past months. No one had the heart to disagree. 

Hannah slapped Marian's hand away from the fabric. "Yes, now stop fidgeting." 

"It's just, it's the middle of winter. I'd feel a lot more comfortable in my cloak," Marian said. She hadn't worn this dress since she confronted Sir Guy for the first time in Locksley. Ever since she had been in Sherwood she had worn her Ranger's uniform. Recently she had been going on scouting missions, trying to catch the sporadic messengers in black that kept going to and from Nottingham with no success. To top it all off, she, Robin, and Little John were trying to ferret out the leak without anyone else guessing their intentions. That had also yielded no success. All in all, their failures were starting to overshadow things and it made for a somber mood in the camp. 

"You can still wear your cloak with the dress if you really feel like you need to," Hannah teased, finishing up a stitch on the hem. She had decided to adjust Marian's only dress, the lilac one, bringing it in at the waist and chest. The winter and hard forest living had taken its toll on her and all the others, but Hannah insisted on fixing the dress to help her look her best. "But I've tried to make it as warm as possible." 

Marian sighed. "I know. You've done a wonderful job Hannah, thank you." 

Hannah smiled at her, standing up and looking at Marian critically. "Yes, I think that will do. I told Robin he had to wear his best, too. You two will look good together." 

She stared at Hannah, spluttering. "What is that supposed to mean?" 

Hannah smiled much too innocently. "Nothing at all! It's just you both never change out of your forest garb, it will be good to see you in something a little more fun." 

"My clothes are fun," Marian grumbled but Hannah either didn't hear or chose to ignore her comment. Just then Gen burst in followed by Jenny, who was smiling indulgently. Both she and Marian had moved in to Hannah's tent when the snows started in order to stay warm. It was crowded some days, but most of the time it was nice to have a little extra body heat. Plus, Marian could always set up her own tent for a night or two if she needed space. 

"Mama I found some!" Gen cried with the delight. Her arms were full of dark green leaves and when she held them out for inspection Marian noticed a bit of red peeking out from their depths. 

"What is that?" she asked. 

"Good job, dear. It's holly," Hannah answered. 

"We're all going to get some," Jenny added grinning at Marian's groan. "Come on, it will be fun! I can even braid it into your hair." 

Marian sighed and submitted to the ministrations of the women around her and even helped Gen braid her hair a little bit. She wasn't nearly as good as Hannah, who had years of practice, but Genevieve was too excited to really notice. 

"There!" Hannah said happily. She had swept Marian's hair to the right side in one long cascading braid. It was loosely woven with large strands, and little bits of holly added delicate touches of color. There were a few tendrils that couldn't be contained in Hannah's neat braid that were left to frame the other side of Marian's face. The dark green leaves were a good contrast to the pale lilac of the dress. Even though Hannah had brought in the fabric, the skirt flared out once it got past her waist and Marian had to resist giving a little twirl. 

Gen had received an entire crown of holly, nestled onto her short blonde hair. Hannah had a nice sprig nestled in the side of a tight bun and Jenny had done something similar to Marian's braid. "Beautiful," Hannah said, assessing the ladies in the tent. "I do believe we're ready. Now come on, I think I can smell the venison." Marian had been part of the hunting party that brought down the deer, a treat for tonight's festivities. It wasn't much, but it was more than they usually had and that was enough to bring about a feeling of celebration to the camp. 

"Let's go!" Gen said, clapping. The four of them left the tent, but not before Marian snatched her cloak and pinned it around her shoulders. She was using a slightly different version of her typical Ranger cloak. This one was mottled white, grey, and black a perfect combination for winter. When packing for her journey, no one had known what kind of weather she would be facing, so Will made sure she packed this special cloak along with other winter clothing just to be prepared. She was glad they did. 

When she exited the tent, Marian noticed most of the residents of Sherwood had already gathered by the large bonfire in the middle of camp. The venison was roasting and the fire sizzled as fat dripped slowly off the meat into the flames. The smell was so good it made her stomach rumble, but it would still be a bit longer before they could eat. 

"I'm going to try one more time to get Alan out here," Jenny said. "It's not like him to miss a party." She left them with a wave and Marian felt Genevieve take her hand. 

"Come on, come on," she insisted. Marian laughed as the little girl tugged her closer to the fire but it took her a moment to realize she was tugging her towards a specific group of people. 

"Gen," she said sternly. "What are you doing?" 

"Nothing!" the little girl said brightly. "Hi Robin," she said pulling Marian to a stop with Hannah behind them, who was trying to hide a smile. 

"Hello Genevieve," Robin said. He was dressed in an old faded tunic of dark green with gold trim and if you didn't look too closely you wouldn't notice the threadbare patches or the dust. It was easy to ignore the patches because the cut of the garment seemed tailored to fit him impeccably well. 

"I see you dressed up Gen. Milady," he said, bowing. Genevieve giggled and the Robin looked at Marian in question. She noticed him pause a little when he took in her change of outfit and she blushed. 

"It was Hannah's idea," she said. "For the celebration." 

"Well it was a good idea," he said to the group but his eyes didn't leave Marian. "You look really nice." 

She had to consciously keep her hands from going to her hair. Instead she tugged the sleeves of her dress, uncomfortably aware of their audience. "So do you," she said. 

Robin brushed the fabric. "My father had it made before everything happened. I took it with me, one of the few things from home." Then he smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "I guess it's a good thing I did, isn't it?" 

"You certainly are prepared," a familiar voice said from behind Robin. Marian looked over his shoulder and then grinned. 

"Sarah!" she cried, moving to give the older woman a hug. "I didn't know you were coming, how did you get here?" 

"Robin invited us," Sarah said with a laugh. "Little John came and picked us up." 

"Wait, does that mean all the children are here with you?" Marian asked, already looking around. She could see a group of them over by Sky, who was enjoying the extra attention and the treats, but there was one little boy missing. 

"Mayan!" a small voice cried out and she could see a small child push his way through the legs of the adults. 

"James," she replied, kneeling and holding out her arms. James barreled into them and squeezed her tight. "It's so good to see you! Have you said hello to Sky?" 

James nodded and smiled. "Hello," he said. 

"James, this is Genevieve," Marian introduced the two children. "Gen, do you think you could show James around? Show him the best hiding places." 

Gen nodded. "Come on," she grabbed the boy's hand and they ran off, laughing. Marian stood up watching them go fondly. 

"He's really opened up a lot since you first came," Sarah said. "He's such a wonderful boy. Finally getting into the mischief children are supposed to," she laughed. 

Their group turned into a small gathering of people by the fire when the first notes of a ditty floated through the air. Marian turned and saw of few of their people seated in a circle, tuning instruments. Hannah really had gone all out for this event. Soon a jaunty tune replaced the murmur of conversation and Robin bowed to Marian with a ridiculous flourish. "So, fair maid Marian. Care to dance?" 

A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth, but she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "I don't know any of your dances," she said. 

"What's this I hear? Marian, afraid of a little challenge?" he wiggled his eyebrows and such a way that he startled a laugh out of her. 

"Never," she said. Then she curtsied beautifully, every inch the image of a noble lady. "Shall we?" Robin grinned and then led her to the space that had cleared in front of the musicians. They were the first two to start dancing, but it didn't take long for most of the camp to join in. The children ran around as well, weaving through the moving couples. 

Marian stumbled often, turning a wrong way every once in a while but she laughed it off and Robin helped guide her through the steps. Then Little John was asking her to dance and Robin had gone to invite Lucy to the makeshift dance floor. 

She couldn't keep track of all the people she danced with. Friar Tuck even joined in for a few reels, claiming all forms of art were a celebration of God. It was a big gathering and she whirled around, exchanging hands and partners. It wasn't long until she took off her cloak because between the fire, the crowd, and the dancing the warmth generated was enough to stave off the winter chill. 

Lucy finally called a halt to eat supper and drink some of the ale Tuck procured for the occasion. Marian heartily applauded the musicians for the music, breathing hard. Her feet were tired and she was ready to sit and rest for a bit. But she wasn't to rest for long. It was during supper that Jenny reminded everyone Marian had some skill with the mandolin and it wasn't long after that until she was pressed into playing, though she didn't resist all that much. 

Her belly full and cheeks flushed from the ale, Marian began to play. With the mandolin in hand and playing classic Araluen songs amidst her friends from Sherwood she suddenly felt at home. During her third song, a ditty called Greybeard Halt that was a particular favorite of hers, James managed to climb into her lap. After that she played a popular children's song that was a hit with the young ones. 

The applause was loud and there were a few whistles and cheers from the crowd when she finished. Marian bowed in her seat and placed the mandolin on the ground next to her. "Friar Tuck, your ale is spectacular. It let everyone tolerate my playing for four whole songs!" she joked. There was good-hearted laughter and Tuck raised his glass to her. Then there was a call for more music and the other musicians struck up a tune once more. 

Some people got up and went to the cook-fire for seconds. Marian sat, finishing off her supper, and laughed when Hannah finished telling her a story of one of Gen's escapades that involved a lot of mud-spattered clothing. James was cuddling with her, but he soon scrambled off of Marian's lap when one of his brothers called him over for a game of tag. 

"Marian?" 

She turned and Robin was next to her, having finished his own supper. "Are you up for another dance?" His brown eyes were alight with fun and the collar of his shirt was slightly damp from sweat. He held out his hand to her and Marian glanced at Hannah, who made a shooing motion with her hands. 

"Go on," she said. "I've a mind to get another slice of venison anyhow." 

Marian smiled and put her hand in his. Tonight was a night for fun and she didn't want to turn down an opportunity to dance. It was the first time in a long time she felt carefree and genuinely happy without having to worry about one thing or another. Tonight she was going to enjoy it. Robin squeezed her hand and pulled her to her feet, dragging her into the open space. He twirled her around and the fabric of her dress spun out around her, then he pulled her back in and steadied her with his other hand on her back. 

Marian laughed with delight, warm with the glow of dancing and the camaraderie of the solstice celebration. She looked up into Robin's eyes to comment on the evening and then forgot what she was going to say. She realized they were close enough she could count the freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheeks. _It would be so easy_ , she thought distantly. She didn't realize they had stopped moving. _To reach just a little higher…_

"Robin!" 

Marian stepped back, startled and short of breath. Robin was gazing at her with confusion and something like longing and she stepped back another step. She had been about to kiss him again! 

"Robin, there you are, I've been looking for you," Camille twittered, sauntering up to them. "You promised me a dance after supper." She linked her arm through his, but he extricated himself. 

"Not now, Camille," he said, frustration coloring his voice. "Marian…" 

She shook her head, trying to smile and figure out the mix of emotions inside her. "It's okay, you two dance," she said quickly. "I, uh, I need to get some air." She turned and squeezed herself through the moving couples, ignoring Robin's call behind her. Marian fled the clearing and left the welcoming orange glow of the bonfire behind. Once she left the small clearing and the protecting warmth of the fire, the cold air nipped her cheeks and helped clear her head. 

Marian walked slowly into the trees. What had she been thinking? They were just dancing, having fun, and then…then she became aware of how close they were. She remembered that day in the square, the heat she felt when he kissed her and she had to admit to herself she wanted to feel it again. Her body had moved before her mind could catch up. 

But she shouldn't want to, that was the problem. _You're going home_ , Marian scolded herself. _Eventually you're going home. You don't have time for this, this… whatever this is_. 

"Marian, wait!" she froze at the sound of his voice. She didn't think he was going to follow her. She squared her shoulders and turned around, waiting for him to approach her. He looked disheveled and unsure when he stopped in front of her, running a hand through his hair. 

"Wh-what happened back there?" he asked. 

She smiled slightly, hugging herself. "I just felt a little faint. Why aren't you dancing?" 

He opened his mouth and then closed it again. She waited for him to answer and he fidgeted. "We haven't talked about what happened in Nottingham, not once, since you've been back." 

Marian swallowed and forced herself to shrug. "What's there to talk about? It was a distraction for the guards and it worked." She could see the hurt that flickered across his face and she clenched her hands to keep herself distant from him. 

"A distraction," he said. Marian saw the muscle in his jaw clench and she wanted to take it back. She wanted to tell him she had felt something that day, too. But she couldn't. 

"It was the job Robin." Marian cleared her throat. "I'm sorry if I gave the wrong impression. I didn't mean to." The look on his face made her feel awful but she couldn't dare show it. "You should go dance." The suggestion tasted bitter in her mouth and it was difficult to get it out above a whisper. "Camille is waiting for you." 

Robin took a half step back and he blinked as if slapped. "Right," he said softly. "I guess I'll head back to the party." He walked backwards for a few steps and then turned around, heading back towards the orange light flickering through the trees. She watched him go, pretending she couldn't feel the tear that ran down her cheek. 

Robin walked away, ignoring the branches that scraped his face or that grabbed at his clothes. How could he have been so stupid? When they were dancing he had thought…but no. He shouldn't have even asked her about it, he knew better. It was his own fault for thinking there was something more. He broke off a branch with more force than was necessary and whacked it against a tree. If she didn't want to have anything to do with him, then he would oblige. 

He came back into the clearing and the chatter of multiple conversations washed over him. He saw Camille standing at the edge of the crowd, looking for him. When she saw him emerge from the forest she waved. He flicked his hair out of his eyes and waved back, striding towards her. At least there was someone who still wanted him around. As he brought her out to the dancing space, Robin knew only one thing. Tonight, he was determined to forget all about Marian Harwood. 


	13. Betrayed

Marian's boots crunched the fresh layer of frost as she walked across the camp, the pair of hares she had caught thumping against her leg. She had gone hunting that morning, something she had done every morning for almost two weeks. It was a good way to be alone with her thoughts at the beginning of the day, and if it helped her avoid one specific person, well, so much the better. 

Lucy was sitting by a cold fire pit, chopping up some of their dwindling stores of dried vegetables for the midday meal. Marian walked over and put her catch on the rough-hewn table. "They're a bit lean today Lucy, but hopefully they will add a little flavor," she said. 

The older woman looked up at her. "Thank you Marian. You know I appreciate the extra help but you don't have to keep doing this. Every day these two weeks you've gone out and brought me back something. Why not take a morning off, let someone else take a turn?" 

Marian shrugged. "I don't mind. It gives me time to think." 

"And to get away," Lucy said shrewdly. Marian winced inwardly knowing Lucy understood more than she let on. But she wasn't about to reveal anything more if she could help it. 

"If you need anything else, just let me know," she said, turning away to escape the scrutiny. 

"Robin came lookin' for you while you were out," Lucy said, stopping Marian in her tracks. "Said he was calling a meeting during…well about now, acutally, and he wants you there." 

"He couldn't tell me himself?" Marian said, bitterness coloring her voice. 

"Would you have let him?" Lucy replied gently. "If you would talk to him…" 

Marian shook her head. "I'm not the only one avoiding people," she said. "He made it clear where we stand." _So did you_ a traitorous voice whispered in her head. _You're the one who told him to go back and dance_. When Marian had returned to the celebration, well after Robin, she almost wished she hadn't gone back. She had seen him dancing with Camille, which was what she told him to do. But she hadn't expected to be quite as bothered by the way the other woman clung to him. Or the way he seemed to enjoy it. Marian hadn't stuck around long after that. The next day any encounter between the two of them was stilted and awkward. The best thing for the both of them was for her to avoid as much contact with him as possible. 

"No, you're right," Marian said. "I would rather you tell me anyway. Thanks Lucy. I better get to that meeting." She turned around quickly so she wouldn't have to see the sympathy on the other woman's face. But before she made it to Robin's tent Jenny intercepted her. 

"Marian! Have you seen Alan?" she asked, worry etched on her face. 

She shook her head. "No, not recently. I just got back. I thought he had gone into town to visit his family?" 

"He did," Jenny said. "But he said he was going to be back last night. I was just wondering if you saw him when you went hunting?" 

Marian reached out and squeezed Jenny's hand. "I'm sure he's fine. Maybe his mother made him stay an extra night. From what Alan has said about her, its not too surprising right?" 

Jenny smiled but Marian could still see the concern in the other woman's eyes. "You're right, I'm just being silly." 

"You're not being silly," she assured her. "But I bet he'll turn up sometime today." 

Jenny sighed. "I hope so. I've been worried about him, you know. He doesn't talk to me anymore like he used to." He shook her head. "Sorry, you don't need to be hearing that." She noticed the tent Marian was headed towards and then narrowed her eyes. "Are you going to talk to Robin?" Jenny had also seen Camille with Robin at the dance and, after noticing Marian's red eyes, had been incensed. She was none too pleased about Robin's actions and said Marian had every right to be angry, though Marian herself tried to convince Jenny it was nothing. 

"He called a meeting," Marian explained. "Just business." 

Jenny huffed. "Do you want me to come?" 

She smiled. "No, it's all right. Thank you though." 

"All right," Jenny said, unconvinced. "Find me when you're done." 

Marian promised she would and then proceeded to the tent. She took a deep breath and then opened the flap, stepping inside. She did her best to ignore the stares as everyone turned to stare at her. Unfortunately, she was the last to arrive and being a small meeting her arrival did not go unnoticed. 

She put up her hood, standing in the back and blending into the shadows. Robin nodded to her, his eyes slightly averted. "Now that we're all here, we should get started. Michael," Robin nodded to one of the men in the tent, "has brought back some interesting information from his time in the villages." 

Robin paused, looking at each person in the tent, which included four other men besides Little John and Marian herself. "There are rumors that say the King is returning." 

Marian straightened, and the others murmured in surprise. She had never met this man but she had heard so much about him and was intrigued. She might actually get a chance to meet him in person. Then, just maybe, she would be able to find an ally for her own country after all. 

"If this is true—" Little John said. 

"Yes," Robin said. "It could mean the end of all of this. King Richard would take his place on the throne, and everything would be right again." He met Marian's eyes on the last part on accident and she felt the heat in her cheeks. Robin quickly looked away. 

"We need to figure out where these rumors are coming from and if they have any weight," he continued. 

"What we need to do is figure out what the Sheriff knows," Marian said from her corner. The others turned to look at her. "If it's true and the Sheriff, and presumably Prince John, knows then the King could be in danger." 

She could see Robin was trying to form an answer when a shout of alarm sounded outside the tent. Marian's heart lurched in response to the distress evident in the voice. She was the first one out as the rest all sprang to their feet and rushed outside. 

Robin pushed himself to the front of the group that crowded outside his tent, next to Marian and John. Before them, young Will was hunched over with his hands on his knees, gulping in air. Jenny stood next to him and she looked unusually pale. Hannah was holding Jenny's shoulders and whispering something in her ear. Other people in the camp had started to crowd around them, drawn by the shout. 

Robin frowned and Marian watched as he put on his leadership role like a cloak, straightening his shoulders slightly to bear whatever panic and worry everyone else was starting to feel. He needed to be the rock for them, the center. 

"Will," he said, striding to him and putting his hand on the young boy's shoulder. "Will, what's wrong?" 

Will took a shuddering breath and then stood up. His face was streaked with sweat and he looked scared. "It's the Sheriff. He's in Sherwood." There were cries of dismay from the people around him and John and Robin exchanged a glance. 

"He's been in Sherwood before, Will. We're safe here." 

"Alan is with him," Will said. 

There was some rumbling in the growing group of outlaws. Jenny turned her face into Hannah's shoulder and Marian walked over to them. She put her hand on Jenny's back. "We'll get him back, don't worry," she told her friend. 

Jenny looked at Marian with a pained expression and Hannah shook her head. Marian felt the blood rush from her face as she turned to Will, who was also shaking his head. 

"Alan is _leading_ them," he said. 

"The bastard," a man called Joshua growled. Marian heard the word "traitor" passed around and felt the glances some people directed at Jenny. Marian raised her chin and stepped in front of her friend, meeting every stare until they all backed down. 

"We don't know what's what," she said. "Alan may be leading them but there may be something more going on." 

"Like money?" Camille said with a hard glare. 

"Or cowardice," Michael added. 

"Enough," Marian snapped. She was surprised at how cold her voice sounded. She wasn't the only one. Heads turned in her direction, and Robin finally looked straight at her without glancing away. She could see the shock on his face. He was thinking the same thing she was. If Alan was leading the Sheriff, then it was likely he was the leak they had been searching for. But knowing there was a traitor was different than knowing who the traitor was. She could see how much it wounded him. 

Marian looked him in the eyes, speaking loud enough so all could hear but really speaking directly to him. She pushed aside her feelings and tried to give him the support he needed. "What we need to do is get everything gathered up and scatter. Pick a place, right now, were we can all meet up tonight. Alan won't know what place we've picked and we can regroup from there. Right now, our priority is to get everyone to safety." 

Robin stared at her for a moment longer and then took a deep breath. She could see him push whatever betrayal he was feeling aside in order to protect the rest of his people. Then he looked around at them, his face stern. "Yes. Everyone, pack up whatever you can carry. Leave the rest. We will try to come back and gather whatever's left when the coast is clear. We don't have a lot of time." 

"They were right behind me," Will said. 

"Once you've finished packing, spread out. We'll meet at…." Robin frowned, trying to think of a place. 

"What about the old Blackwater ferry site?" Friar Tuck spoke up from the back of the crowd. "It's secluded and nobody has used it for years. I used to mediate there." 

Robin nodded. "Blackwater. Meet there by sunrise tomorrow. That gives you all a little less than a day. Be careful." 

The crowd scattered. Marian could feel the panic and sense that at any moment the Sheriff was going to come bursting through those trees. She looked around at the families, the stuff that had accumulated over their years as outlaws. There was so much to do and to gather. Will had barely made it back and from the looks he was throwing over his shoulder Marian came to a terrible realization. There wasn't enough time. 

"Hannah, Jenny," Marian said. The women looked at her. "Jenny, I'm sorry. We will figure it out. But right now we have to get somewhere safe." She saw Hannah frown, as if she had an inkling of what Marian was going to do. "I'll meet you at Blackwater, all right?" 

Hanna put her hand on Marian's arm, looking her straight in the eye. "Don't do anything stupid," she said. 

Marian only smiled and then slipped away to Hannah's tent. Her stuff was always ready to be packed at a moment's notice, something she learned from her Ranger training. Marian gathered what little she had left out, thankful that her tent was already stowed away because of the winter living arrangements. 

Sky was soon saddled and ready to go, everything packed tidily away, but the Ranger pony sensed something was going on. Her ears were forward and her head was up but she didn't prance around. Ranger ponies were trained to respond calmly to situations like this, but her muscles quivered. Marian stroked Sky's nose and looked into her liquid brown eyes. There was a sudden tightness in her throat. 

"You be good, okay girl?" she said. 

Sky cocked her head to the side. _What are you planning?_ She seemed to ask. 

"They don't have enough time to get everyone out. I'm going to give it to them." 

Sky lipped the edge of Marian's mottled cloak. _Take me with you. You won't be able to stay out of trouble without me_. 

"I need you to keep them safe for me," Marian whispered. "And keep this safe." She glanced around so no one would see and then slipped the chain of her bronze oak leaf medallion over her head. "I don't want the Sheriff and his men getting a hold of it." 

Sky stamped her foot and whinnied as Marian put the medallion in one of her packs. _I won't let you do this_. Marian looked around in alarm, hoping know one would come over. They would try to stop her and they couldn't afford that. She caught Robin's glance while was giving orders to his people but he didn't linger on her. There was too much else to do. It seemed the distance between them was back in place. At least that would give her the time she needed to get away. Despite the conflicting emotions inside her, she knew she would do what was necessary to keep him, and everyone else, as safe as possible. 

"Stop that. I have to," she told Sky firmly. "You know I do. I couldn't live with myself. I couldn't face the people I care about if I had the chance to give these people time and I didn't because I wanted…" she cleared her throat. "I wanted to see home again. The culture of Araluen is safe with you. Robin and John will know what to do with it, and if someone eventually comes for me you can take them home." Marian kissed Sky's nose. "Take care of them for me, girl." 

Sky nickered as Marian turned but she ignored her pony, finding it difficult to keep the tears away. She had every intention of fighting to make it back but for some reason this time just felt final. It was probably good to have a backup plan. Scanning the campsite, now filled with scurrying and panicked people, she saw Will waiting by the central fire pit with a small knapsack slung over his shoulder. "Will!" she called. The boy looked at her and waved. 

"Hi Marian. Looks like you're ready to go," he said nodding at the full quiver of arrows over her shoulder and the weapons on her belt. 

Marian smiled. "I'm always ready," she told him. "Will, can you give Robin a message for me? Wait until you guys are about to leave, though all right?" 

"Okay," he said hesitantly. She could tell he was confused by her request and he had every right to be. But she didn't have time to explain. The clock was ticking. 

*** 

"We're not moving fast enough," Robin growled under his breath. Even if they managed to leave this camp in time, it wouldn't be far enough from the Sheriff to keep him from catching all of them. People ran around and he could feel their alarm despite their admirable attempt to keep calm. 

A couple of people came up to him, complaining about leaving some of their personal items. He was telling them why they only needed the necessities when he heard Sky whinny. It was louder than the pony had ever been, and it sounded almost angry. He looked up and caught Marian's worried glance. He quickly turned away, determined to leave her to her own troubles. She could handle her own horse and she was probably one of the last people he had to worry about. _She's made that clear_ , he thought a little petulantly. 

More people came up to him and he directed them where to go and where to wait for nightfall before making their way to Blackwater Ferry. He forgot about Marian in his haste to make sure his own people where getting what they needed and getting out safely. 

John walked up to Robin, dodging a frantic woman carrying a tied cloth bundle and narrowly avoiding a collision. "I think we're mostly ready to go," he reported, brushing off his shirt. "A lot of our people have left already. Just a few families are still here." 

Robin nodded, running his hand through his hair. Nerves fluttered in his stomach and the back of his neck prickled, reminding him that they were running out of time. "All right. Let's get them moving and then get out of here ourselves." Then he noticed Will trailing behind John. 

"Are you ready to go, Will?" Robin asked. Will nodded but he kept fidgeting with his hands. John shrugged when Robin shot him a questioning look. "What's wrong?" 

"I saw Marian," Will said. Robin's heart skipped a little. He didn't know why those words made him nervous, but they did. "She said to give you a message." 

"She couldn't tell me herself?" Robin asked. 

Will shrugged. "I'm supposed to whisper it to you," he said a little uncomfortably. 

Robin hesitated, a little thrown off by the strange request, but leaned down to let the boy whisper in his ear. 

Will whispered the words he was told and when he was done, Robin straightened, perplexed. What in the world did she mean by that? It didn't make any sense. It wasn't even a real message, just two words. He looked over at Sky again, waiting patiently for her rider. Her rider, who wasn't anywhere to be seen. 

His body went cold. "No," he said to himself, remembering the secret she had told him the last time she went to Nottingham. "No, she wouldn't do that." _Of course she would_ , his inner voice told him. _You know what kind of person she is_. 

"What?" John asked. "Rob, what was the message?" 

Instead of answering him Robin walked over to Sky, John and Will trailing behind. When he reached the horse, Sky turned her head and looked at him. Robin could've sworn the pony looked sad. She stomped her foot and bent her head over her shoulder, tossing it up and down. Then she snorted and did it again, like she was pointing at something. The saddlebag was the closest thing and Robin put his hand on it. When he did Sky settled. Not knowing what else to do and feeling slightly foolish for following the orders of a horse, he opened it. When he saw the dull gleam of bronze and the curve of an oak leaf, he froze. 

"Dammit, Marian!" he muttered harshly. How could she do this? After everything, she had to go and do _this_? He was angry, angry with her and angry with himself for not guessing her course of action. But most of all he was scared. 

"Robin?" Will asked quietly. He looked at the boy and then back at Sky. There was one final test, to confirm the suspicion that was all but solidified in his mind. He cleared his throat and then moved closer to Sky's head, rubbing his hand on her nose and then leaning in to whisper in the pony's ear. 

"Clear Blue." 

Nothing happened, but he knew it probably wouldn't. Taking a deep breath he swung himself up into the saddle, waiting for the inevitable lurch and then the feeling of flying through the air. But it never came. 

John and Will looked on wide-eyed. Everyone knew only Marian could ride Sky and anyone else who tried without Marian's consent would be thrown off in a heartbeat. Yet Robin was still in the saddle. 

Robin closed his eyes. "How could you?" he said softly. 

"What is it?" Will asked. 

John put his hand on Will's shoulder. "Marian went to buy us some time," he answered solemnly. 

"We have to go after her," Robin said. "I can't believe she would do this!" 

John looked at him sternly. "Yes, you can. She is doing it so we can all get away. And she knows you can't do it because you can't risk your life like that. You're the leader, Rob, you have to stay alive." 

"And she doesn't?" Robin asked, furious. 

John's expression softened. "She knows you're the only one of us who isn't expendable," he said quietly. 

Robin's hands shook. He was so close to kicking Sky into a gallop and going after her, to bring her back with him and keep them all safe at the same time. But there was one part of him, a part he hated right now, that knew Little John was right. There would be no way to get everyone to safety without setting some sort of obstruction in the Sheriff's path. 

"And what does that say about me if I'm not willing to risk my life?" Robin asked, still trying to fight this battle. 

John stepped closer, putting a hand on Sky's neck and glaring up at Robin. "If you don't show up at Blackwater tomorrow, the resistance will be broken. Right now, you are the only one who can lead us. If Richard is coming back, we need you to hold on. Now is not the time to throw your life away on some doomed-to-fail heroics." 

John's voice caught and Robin did a double take. John's eyes were overly bright and Robin started to see the worry and grief that was hiding behind the stern façade. "Marian has become like a daughter to me," John said. "I want to go after her, just like you. And we will," he promised. "We just can't do it now. We need to use the time she's given us wisely. Respect her decision, Robin." 

Robin turned in the saddle and looked into the trees, as if he could just look hard enough he would see her. Then, feeling like a traitor himself, he turned Sky towards Blackwater. "All right, let's go." 

*** 

Marian peered around the tree, the cowl of her cloak covering her face, and tried to slow her breathing. She had run as fast as she could from the camp, trying to put as much distance between her friends and her confrontation with the Sheriff as she could. She could hear the men moving through the forest. They made so much noise, they weren't even worried about being noticed. _Well_ , she thought, _it was time to teach them to be worried_. 

"Stop right there, Sheriff," she shouted. She could hear a confused jumble of voices in response to her order. "One more step and I'll riddle your men with arrows." 

Kneeling down, Marian peered around again and noticed the men had halted. The Sheriff and Sir Guy were on horses. Her breath caught in her throat as she noticed the figure standing freely between the two of them, head hung down. "Oh, Alan," she whispered. "Why?" 

"Now, now," the Sheriff called. His voice made her flesh crawl as memories of her assault flashed through her brain. Marian wrenched her mind to the task at hand, refusing to think about it. "Come on out, whoever you are. Why don't we have a nice little chat?  
She noticed Alan's head jerk up slightly when she called out and she prayed he wouldn't give her away. If she could keep them guessing who she was, it would only stall them longer. Marian moved, keeping to the foliage and the shadows so that when she appeared some feet in front of the troops it looked like it was by magic. 

"All right, Sheriff," she said trying to pitch her voice a little lower to keep her identity secret. "What do you want?" 

Sir Guy frowned a little but he didn't say anything. The Sheriff started to laugh. "What do I want? I've already got it. You're done. This little rebellion and Robin Hood are done. All the outlaws will be slaughtered…" 

"You take one step further, harm one person in this forest, and you are a dead man," she said, her voice icy. She tried to sound like Halt and Will did when facing down an opponent they despised. The Sheriff's face turned red but Marian wasn't focused on him. She heard the slight rustle of cloth against branches off to her left and in a blur of motion she let loose an arrow. There was silence for a moment and then a cry of pain as a soldier stumbled out of the woods. 

"I told you what would happen if you kept going," she chided. 

"You're outnumbered and you're forgetting something," the Sheriff growled. 

"Oh?" she asked, hiding a thrill of anxiety. 

He smiled. "We've got one of your own." With that the Sheriff nodded and Guy swung off of his horse. Before anyone could react he had a knife to Alan's throat. Alan made a chocking sound and Marian froze. His eyes met hers and she knew she couldn't let them kill him, despite what he had done. She wanted to punish Alan for betraying them, but not like this. 

She started to laugh, a high and bright laugh. The Sheriff's man looked at each other, confused, and Alan's face paled even further. Marian threw back her hood, letting her braid fall free and looked at the Sheriff, pretending to wipe tears of laughter from her eyes. "You're supposed to be smart, Sheriff" she mocked. 

" _You_ " he hissed. 

Marian twiddled her fingers at him. "Sorry Sheriff. By now Robin and everyone else are long gone. You might as well just turn around right now." 

The men stared at her in astonishment. The Sheriff, however, was frozen for a moment in rage but then he swung off his horse, whipped a belt knife out of his sheath, and stabbed Alan in the stomach. 

Alan whimpered as the blade entered his body, sliding in up to the hilt. His body crumpled over the weapon as Sir Guy let go of him, partly in shock. The Sheriff jerked the knife out in disgust and Alan slumped to the ground. 

Marian felt like someone had punched in her in the gut. No sound came out of her mouth even though her heart was pounding loud enough she thought everyone could hear it. It took a moment before the sound ripped from her throat. Fury and despair raced through her veins and she grabbed an arrow, strung it, and let it fly before anyone could blink. 

Her arrow flew true. If not for the soldier who stepped in front of the Sheriff in order to see better, the arrow would have found its mark and the Sheriff would have been a dead man. 

Marian had another arrow strung and ready to loose. The Sheriff was all she could see, all she could focus on. Alan may have been a traitor, but he had also been a friend. That, combined with her own personal feelings toward the man, made her want to kill him now more then ever. Then the Sheriff looked at her and said without feeling, "Seize her." 

The men in front converged on Marian and she shot like a madwoman. Her arm was a blur of motion as she steadily moved backward to give herself more space. Men fell, but others came on. A quiver could only hold so many arrows and there were more men attacking than she could hold off with her bow. When her arrows ran out, Marian threw her bow down ignoring the twinge in her heart as she let go of her weapon. She drew out her saxe and throwing knife, crouching as the remaining survivors surrounded her. 

"Do it!" the Sheriff snapped. 

The soldiers attacked. 

Marian was an excellent hand-to-hand fighter. She had been taught by the best and practiced until she was so exhausted she couldn't move. But even she could not last when outnumbered ten to one. Marian blocked and lunged, scoring a few hits. But then a fist found her face and pain burst above her right eye. She stumbled but swung her arm out, then the flat of a sword found her wrist and she lost one of her weapons. She whirled to block but something rammed into her back and she staggerd forward. Hands wrapped around her arms and another fist found her chin. She could taste her own blood from a split lip as she was forced to her knees. A foot kicked her in the stomach and she doubled over, riding out the wave of pain in her gut. 

Footsteps approached and she looked up, glaring into the sneering face of the Sheriff. Sir Guy stood behind him, unreadable. But she could have sworn there was a flash of pity in his eyes. The Sheriff knelt down to her eye level and grabbed her chin with his fingers. She jerked her head away and he hit her. Pain shot through her head and she bit back a groan. 

"You got away last time, and I may not have Hood," the Sheriff said. "But I have you now, and I bet he won't be far behind." 

"He's not stupid enough to show up," Marian snarled. "You'll never catch him. And I got away once, who's to say I won't do it again?" 

His hand shot out and wrapped around her throat. Then he started to squeeze. Her lungs burned and she tried to breathe, but no air was coming through. Marian writhed, trying to break his grip, but black spots started dancing in her eyes. 

"Sheriff," Sir Guy said with urgency. 

Suddenly he let go. Cool air rushed into her lungs and she hung her head gasping. "I'll make sure you won't ever leave again," he told her softly, like he was talking to lover. Tears pricked her eyes but she blinked them quickly away so nobody would see. 

The Sheriff stood up, rising out of her view. "Tie her up and bring her back. We've got work to do." 

*** 

Robin walked slowly through grass, looing at the bodies. He noticed the arrows and the marks on the ground where there was a fight. His eyes scanned the ground and his heart clenched when he noticed the discarded bow poking out from underneath some shrubbery. He picked it up, running his fingers along the smooth wood. 

"Robin!" 

Little John's shout brought Robin running, but he stopped short when he saw the subject of John's concern. 

Alan lay on the ground with his head propped up against a tree as if he had tried to sit up but couldn't quite make it. His skin was a ghastly shade of grey. Old blood stained his shirt and he hardly moved. Robin caught John's eye and raised his eyebrows but John shook his head solemnly. 

Robin looked down at Alan again, not quite sure what to feel. It was because of him they had to flee their campsite. And yet, he had been and an invaluable part of the team. 

"R—Rob," 

His voice was so faint Robin thought it must have been a trick of the wind. But John motioned to him and then stepped back, giving the two of them some room. 

Robin knelt next to the dying man. He could see the tears in Alan's eyes, but he didn't say anything. "They got her," he said. Robin closed his eyes. He had guessed as soon as he saw her bow lying in the grass, but he didn't want to hear it confirmed. 

"I'm…so sorry," he said. Robin looked at Alan, whose eyes were fluttering and losing focus. Robin looked up at John who just looked back, helpless. 

"Why did you do it?" Robin asked, his voice rough. 

"Robin," John hissed. 

"I need to know!" 

Alan coughed and pushed feebly against the ground, trying to sit up. Robin slipped his hands behind Alan's back, helping him. 

When Robin met his eyes he was shocked to see them bright with unshed tears. "He had my mother. He said," Alan coughed again, blood dribbling out of his mouth. "He said he would kill her." 

"Why didn't you tell us, lad?" John asked gently. 

"I couldn't! He would know and she would die." This time the tears fell and his voice broke a little. "I'm sorry." 

"Stop saying that," Robin snapped. His hands were shaking and he wanted to cry and then hit something at the same time. Everything could have been different if only Alan would have just _told_ them. 

Alan clutched feebly at Robin's jacket, his fingers unable to take hold of the fabric. "F-five days." 

"What?" Robin asked, leaning closer to try and hear him. 

"He was going to kill you five days from now," Alan said. 

"What does that have to do with—" 

"Marian," Alan whispered. 

Robin froze as understanding broke through. He tried to swallow but his suddenly dry throat prevented that. The Sheriff was going to kill Marian in his place. 

Alan grunted, his eyes wide with desperation. Robin leaned closer, trying to catch his last words. 

"Tell…." 

Robin felt the ghost of a breath on his cheek and then he leaned back and stared. Alan's eyes were wide and unseeing, his sentence left unfinished. Robin clenched his fist and slammed it against the ground. John knelt down and gently closed Alan's eyes. 

"We should bury him Rob," John said. 

"He's a traitor," Robin said roughly, blinking back the sudden tears in his eyes. 

"Robin of Locksley, he was your friend," John said sternly. Robin looked at the body of his one-time friend, the man who betrayed them and then tried to tell him about Marian. He stood up, looking at the bodies of the soldiers who had come to fight them. He ripped the cloak off of one of them and brought it over to where John was standing over Alan's body. 

"We can carry him in this," he said. Robin spread the cloak on the ground and grabbed Alan's feet while John lifted his shoulders. They lay him gently on the cloak and Robin slung Marian's bow over his shoulders. Then they each took an end of the cloak, carrying Alan's body through the forest. 

By the time they made it to the rendezvous point Robin's arms were shuddering. It wasn't just the physical exhaustion but the emotional one as well. When they walked into the new camp carrying the body, there were cries of concern and grief. Many were cries of anger and outrage that they would bring the traitor back with them. But one look from Robin silenced those voices. Jenny was crying quietly as she came up and took Robin's end of the cloak. He tried to refuse but she insisted. 

"Please," she said. "I…I want to." 

Robin nodded and let go, pain shooting up his arm as he loosened his fingers. Jenny and John carried Alan a little ways away from the central area and Robin was about to go find a shovel, but Hannah was already on her way with a few. 

"I found these in an old shed by the remains of the dock," she said softly. They were rusted to the point where he almost couldn't tell what the original metal had been but hopefully they would do the job. It was only the four of them digging, taking turns with the two shovels they had. The only sound was the dull thud of the shovel digging into the ground and the soft patter of loose dirt falling down. Being winter, the ground was mostly frozen so they couldn't dig as deep a grave as they would have liked. When they got as far as they could, John and Robin lowered Alan into the ground, cloak and all, and then the women started filling it up. Jenny had stopped crying but her eyes were red-rimmed and dull. She looked as if she wasn't seeing the ground in front of her. 

When they were finally finished they stood around silently. No one else came; they were all too devastated by what had happened because of Alan's betrayal. Hannah put her hand on Jenny's shoulder but the other woman didn't seem to feel it. 

"Robin…" Hannah's voice broke through Robin's stupor and he raised his eyes slightly to meet hers. 

"Where is Marian?" 

The breath left him as he remembered. With the trek through the forest, the relentless trudge of his feet, and the weight of Alan's body everything had been driven from Robin's mind. 

"The Sheriff has taken her," he said, his voice surprisingly steady. Jenny's head snapped up as he said that and Hannah put a hand to her mouth. He met their eyes and then looked at John. "And If we don't get her back in five days, he will kill her." 


	14. Damn the Orders

"Absolutely not," Gilan answered in a clipped voice. "Will, you've asked me before and the answer is always the same." Exhaustion colored his voice and Will felt a twinge of guilt, but it wasn't enough to get him to stop asking. The two Rangers wove their way through the rows of tents of the Araluen royal army, each identical to the one next to it. Everything was so similar it was a wonder more people didn't get lost. "You heard the order," he added more quietly. "Straight from the King." 

"Gilan, he's sent another one after her," Will said, almost pleading. He just needed a little time to get away. "Most of the Rangers are here, you don't need me. Marian is my apprentice…" 

"Enough," Gilan interrupted. He halted and Will stopped beside him. The soldiers, pages, and other people who were a part the army camp swirled around them, the two cloaked figures a spot of silence in the bustle. Though the soldiers were somewhat used to the Rangers, most of them were still unsettled by their presence and eyed the two of them warily. It was even worse when more than one Ranger gathered in one place. 

"You _can't_ go," Gilan said. "That's not coming from your friend, that's coming from your Commandant. If Will Treaty disappeared in the middle of this war, what do you think that would mean, what that would do to morale? Not to mention your actual skills. You're one of the best Rangers we have. We need you and everyone else one-hundred percent committed to win this. I'm going to be honest; the Rangers are barely hanging on as it is. Marian is going to have to fend for herself." 

Will clenched his teeth to keep from saying something he knew he would regret. Gilan's voice softened as he continued. "I'm sorry, Will. I know you want to go but it's just not possible. You're needed here." He sighed and ran a hand down his face. "Look, you're spent. You just got back, go get something to eat, and rest. We can hold off on the meeting for an hour or so. 

"She's one of us, Gilan," Will tried on more time. "We can't turn our back on her. We wouldn't on anyone else if they were," he glanced around and lowered his voice, though it didn't lose it's heat. "If they were in _this_ world. 

Gilan's eyes hardened. "If she were here, she would be doing her duty. Like we all must. You trained her, Will, and I understand you don't want her to get hurt. You want to keep your apprentice safe. But none of us are safe," he said. "It's not a luxury we can afford. Don't you think, if they could, all the other Rangers would keep their apprentices from harm? How do you think the ones who have already lost apprentices feel? I can't give you any special treatment." 

Gilan placed a hand on Will's shoulder and it was all Will could do to keep from shrugging it off. "Take a break. I'll see you at the meeting in an hour." It wasn't hard to hear the order under those words. So Will nodded and Gilan left him, already distracted by another problem he had to deal with 

Will watched his friend and commander walk away. He rubbed tiredly at his face, feeling the harsh prickle of a beard underneath his palm. He hadn't had time to shave once the heavy fighting finally broke out. He wasn't used to having a beard, and it made him feel old. Horace even joked he was starting to look like "grizzled, old Halt," as he put it—out of Halt's hearing of course. 

While he stood amidst the bustle Will wished fiercely that Alyss was here with him. She could always help him see more clearly whenever things got complicated. But she was away on a diplomatic mission to Skandia, hoping to get more aid from their allies. Sometimes it almost felt like she was as far away from him as Marian was. 

The scent of coffee reached him briefly before it was overpowered by the other, stronger aromas of unwashed people, horses, leather, muck, and cooking that always hovered around the army camp. He decided he could take Gilan's advice on this part at least, and get something to drink and eat. He needed to keep up his strength. He needed to think. 

Will moved in the opposite direction of Gilan, towards one of the cook tents. On the way he heard the steady beat of trotting horses and he deftly stepped out of the way as a group of soldiers came down the lane. Their armor was mud spattered and the looks on their faces were blank from fatigue and the horror of battle. Up until recently Jeren had been fighting with militia tactics, and these men had probably been part of the fighting from the beginning. Jeren's forces would hit and run sporadically, sometimes hitting multiple places at once. It was almost impossible to defend and ran them ragged. Araluen's forces were spread thinner and thinner until Jeren finally decided to attack in force. 

The first sign was the slaughtering of the guards at the watchtower. Will remembered when he first heard the news. There was no question it was a _valkan_ and there was only one possible person it could be going after. He had taken Tug and made it halfway to the watchtower before Halt intercepted him and told him the rest of the news. The watchtower was taken by some of Jeren's men, but Duncan sent a regiment to surround the tower as soon as he heard. The two sides were at an impasse, and it made their current forces even smaller. Will couldn't get in. And, as Halt bluntly put it, by the time he got there it wouldn't matter. The _valkan_ was long gone. 

Then, as if that wasn't enough, Jeren played his final card. He invaded. He no longer used the smaller raiding parties, and the _valkans_ were no longer hunting as single entities. They were packs, interspersed throughout the frontlines of Jeren's mercenary army. Duncan had gathered their forces, called together what was left of the Ranger Corps, and rode out to meet him. 

The Rangers, dangerous on their own, were deadly as a group. Now there was a visible target, all come together and conveniently placed in the front. Finally, they could unleash their rage, grief, and vengeance on the creatures that had taken so many people from them. And vengeance came on the cold, lethal song of arrows. 

But the _valkans_ kept coming. Nobody knew how many Jeren had found, or bred as some speculated, so whenever they thought they finished them off another pack would emerge. This was not even counting the humans Jeren had recruited to his side. It was a bitter fight and everyone was needed, because everyone was exhausted. Will understood his place was here. That understanding didn't help when a messenger came once more, almost dead on his feet when he made the report. Will had lived in worry for his apprentice, wondering if the creature had gotten to Marian. When he heard there was another _valkan_ making its way towards the tower he knew it meant she was still alive. It also meant another assassin was on its way to kill her. 

He couldn't talk to Halt or Horace because he knew what they would say. One lone _valkan_ sneaking past the blockade and into the watchtower didn't warrant him abandoning his post. But Will didn't want to hear it, not right now. It was the same thing he had been telling himself all day, anyway. _You have your duty; she chose to take the mission; you trained her well; she is capable of this; you have your duty_ , over and over again. Yet no matter how hard he tried to convince himself she would be all right, the hard stone of dread in the pit of his stomach wouldn't go away. 

Will could see the pointed top of the cook tent and his mouth started to water in anticipation of a hot cup of coffee. Master Chubb's second-in-command, Clara, had recently ordered that there always be a pot of coffee ready in every cook tent for any Ranger who asked. Apparently there had been one too many times when one of the camp's cooks would throw an old pot out just as a Ranger would come through asking for more. Of course everyone knew the Rangers had their own supply, but when the army provided it for them it was better to save their own stock for their long and lonely journeys. 

Pushing the heavy canvas aside, Will slipped into the tent and stood against the side in order to get his bearings. Young men and women bustled about, muscles straining as they carried cauldrons, their faces red from steam. The tent itself was situated near the back of the main encampment in order to provide what safety one could get out in the field. 

Clara was in the middle of the chaos, doling out orders in a stern and quiet voice. She didn't bellow, but one look or gesture was as effective as any shouted command from an officer. Will smiled as he saw the determination in the eyes of her subjects to make Clara proud and fulfill her orders to the letter. They reminded him of Marian, the way she would study something with her head slightly tilted when she was concentrating her hardest. She always wanted to get everything right. 

"R—Ranger Treaty?" 

Will looked to his right where a visibly nervous kitchen runner—a person who does whatever the others ask him to do—was holding out a steaming tin cup. He raised an eyebrow, and anyone who knew him would have said he looked exactly like Halt in that moment. "Is that for me?" 

"Mistress Clara saw you come in. She told me to fetch it for you," the boy said. The cup shook slightly in his hands. Will couldn't help the small smile that crept across his face. His hood was down, which normally tempered whatever intimidation others felt when talking to a Ranger, but it didn't seem to have that effect on this particular boy. Though brave enough to work in the field, even as a kitchen runner, he still felt trepidation at approaching one of the Ranger Corps. 

Will took the cup with a friendly smile. "Thank you. If Miss Clara asks, tell her I think you're doing well." The boy made a hasty bow and retreated back into the general chaos. Will lifted his head and caught Clara's eye, raising his cup in a toast. He should have known she would notice the moment he stepped into her domain. She accepted with a nod of her head and a small smile, but didn't stop whatever instruction she was giving to her troops. 

Drink in hand, Will left through the back flap. He didn't want to stay, but he didn't really know where to go either. He couldn't face his comrades right now. What he really needed was to wander and get lost in the belly of the creature that was the Araluen army. 

The heat from the drink seeped through his hands and trickled down his throat when he sipped, warming him from the inside and out. After the first drink he closed his eyes to savor the flavor, realizing the young kitchen boy had even remembered to put a little honey in it. The more he drank the more human he felt and he was grateful for this small measure of comfort. 

Even though it was nearing the evening and things were starting to settle down, there was a constant hum that hovered in the air. Distant sounds of metal clashing mixed with the neigh of a horse. Small groups of people gathered in front of their tents, chatting quietly. He walked by one larger group gathered around an overturned barrel. They were quiet, intent on something in the middle. Then they burst into either cheering or groaning, depending on what side of the dice roll they were on. Thin columns of smoke rose up from the personal campfires everyone was starting to light. He wondered briefly what it would be like to see the fires at night from above, spread out and gleaming like stars in the sky. 

His feet carried him towards the corrals, where the horses were picketed. Will thought maybe he could talk to Tug. His horse always seemed to know what to say to him. He was draining the last bit of coffee from his cup when he heard a jumble of muffled voices. They sounded angry and taunting and carried the promise of trouble. 

Moving quietly between the horses, Will followed the voices. As they grew louder he realized they belonged to younger children, most likely apprentices. 

"Are you going to run away, huh?" one boy voice jeered. "Are you going to run away like she did?" 

"Leave him alone!" a girl yelled. 

He heard a muffled reply and then another thump of fist meeting clothed flesh. Some of the horses were snorting and shuffling, sensing distress. Will put up his hood. The voices were coming from the end of the line. He could see Tug's smaller shaggier form, the tail flicking back and forth. Will noticed when his horse registered his presence, his ears perking up. But the pony didn't react any further and Will was glad the bullies would not be alerted to his approach. 

"You need a girl to defend you?" another boy taunted. "Can't help yourself?" 

Another boy yelled and then Will heard a scuffle, before someone whimpered. "You might as well stay down," the first voice said, a little breathless. "Or, better yet, run away like your little Ranger friend. Strange how we haven't seen her since the _real_ fighting starts." 

Will stopped cold. He knew exactly who the bullies were talking about and was struggling to keep his anger in check. 

"You don't know anything," the girl sneered. 

"I know more than you two," the boy said smugly. "My master knows everything." 

"Everything is quite a lot to know. It's a wonder he can remember it all," Will said, stepping out from behind the horses. Five young people turned to him, startled. 

"Bryan," he said coldly to the young man who had just spoken. "I would think Ranger Nolan would have taught you better. In fact, I was not aware Ranger Nolan knew of what my apprentice was up to." 

The young man's eyes were round with fear and his friends leaned slightly away from him, hoping not to draw Will's ire. Will tapped the tip of his bow slowly against the ground. He noticed the girl wrench her arms out of her captor's hold and run to the gangly boy on the ground. They were Marian's friends…Carey and James, he recalled.

"You three clearly do not have enough time on your hands," Will growled. "Report to Mistress Clara in the kitchen tent and tell her I sent you. Tell her to give all three of you a sentence for fighting, bullying, and stirring up unrest." 

"But…Ranger Will…" Bryan sputtered. He was clearly the most vocal of the group. Will locked eyes with the apprentice, who quailed under the quiet contained anger. His hood cast a shadow across his face and made him look even more mysterious and menacing than usual. 

"Do. Not. Test me." The words were slow and steady but the toughest of men would quail under his tone. "You have acted in a way unworthy of that oak leaf around your neck." He glanced at Bryan's cronies. "I will notify your masters of where you are, and they will accept the sentence I gave you. Now, go. I suspect you will have a lot of work to do. And," his voice halted the boys who were about to scatter. "I will be checking to see you followed my instructions. If there is any deviation, next time I will be the one doling out the punishment." 

The boys hung their heads, refusing to meet his eyes, and left the scene. As soon as they were out of sight Will pushed back his hood and knelt next to James, who was pressing tenderly at a swelling bruise on his cheek. 

"Are you all right, James?" he asked kindly. 

"You shouldn't have just let them go," Carey snapped. Her arm was around James's shoulder but she stared at Will defiantly. "They deserved worse." 

"Clara will see to it, as I'm sure you know," Will answered. Carey was supposed to be Chubb's apprentice, but when the war began in earnest he divided up his workers. Carey had worked for Clara before and she knew how strict, and fair, the woman could be. "Now, will you tell me what happened?" 

"Bryan was talking about Marian," James mumbled. "Carey snapped at him and I was there, backing her up." 

"You didn't have to," Carey said. "I could take care of myself." 

"It wasn't just for you," he looked at her. "Marian is my friend too. And they're not the only ones sayin' stuff like that. I couldn't hear it anymore. But..." he glanced at Will with guilt. "It's hard to speak up when we don't even know what's happened." 

"James!" 

"It's true!" he said. Then he turned to Will. "You must know. She just left us, without a word, and then the fighting got bad." 

"You got a letter, same as me," Carey said. "You know Marian, she wouldn't leave without a good reason." 

Will's heart sank. He had heard the same things from people, and some from those in the Ranger Corps. No one would say it directly to him, but he heard whispers. He also knew how helpless these two must feel, because he couldn't defend his apprentice like he wanted to. 

"I promise you both, what Marian is doing…it's important. Necessary. The King entrusted her with a mission only she could do," Will said earnestly. "I know she would be here if she could." 

"See?" Carey said, squeezing James's shoulder. "She's going to be fine." 

Will felt guilty when Carey glanced at him and he could see the question in her eyes. He couldn't give voice to the fear inside him, the doubts even he was having. "Come on," he said, helping James to his feet. The young man smiled shyly and then winced. 

"Thank you Ranger Will," he said "But we should be getting back." 

Will nodded. "If they give you trouble again, let me know." They were Marian's friends and he felt almost responsible for them, too. 

"If you…if you hear of any news of Marian, will you tell us?" Carey asked. They were looking at him expectantly and it was more difficult than he thought to smile like nothing was wrong. 

"Of course," he said. 

They nodded at him and then made their way slowly back into the depths of the camp, heads bent together in quiet conversation. The sharp ache in his heart as he watched them walk away made him realize something. When he was their age, and he was in trouble, his friends risked everything to help him. He couldn't do any less for his own apprentice then others had done for him. Gorlog take his orders and take the rules. He had work to do. 

****** 

He had gone to the meeting, like Gilan requested. He contributed when he needed to and tried not to let anyone realize he had other things on his mind. He caught Halt eyeing him a few times but there was nothing he could do. His mentor was as sharp as ever but Will couldn't let on what his plans were. He didn't want to take anyone else down with him if things went south. 

That night under the cover of darkness, he made his way back to the corral. He walked confidently, like he had somewhere to be. A Ranger skulking around his own camp would be more suspicious than one just walking around. 

Tug nickered a greeting, as Will got closer. When he found his pony Will ruffled his mane. "Hey boy," he whispered. Tug butted Will's chest, forcing him back a step. Will thought he seemed anxious. "Yeah, I feel it too. You ready to ride?" 

The pony snorted. _I thought you'd never ask_. Will smiled and started cinching the saddle, tying his packs, and checking the reins. He unhitched Tug from the line and led him away. He had just put a foot in the stirrup when he heard a familiar voice behind him. 

"I'm surprised it took you this long to sneak away." 

Will cursed silently and set his foot down. He turned and saw Horace behind him, arms crossed, with Halt by his side. "Dammit, Will, what are you thinking?" Horace asked 

"I'm thinking I'm going to stop one of those monsters," Will snapped. He looked straight at Halt. "You can't expect me to sit back while my apprentice is in danger. You of all people should understand that." 

Halt didn't say anything, just scrutinized Will. It was difficult not to squirm under his gaze, like he was a first year apprentice again. "What?" 

"You can get in serious trouble for this," Horace said with concern. 

"Both of you risked serious trouble to help me when I was in Skandia. Why can't I do the same?" 

His two friends glanced sidelong at each other and Will swung himself up into the saddle. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "But you can't stop me." 

Halt moved forward and grabbed Tug's reins. "Will. If you get caught, you will give up everything. There will be nothing for Marian to come home to." 

Will looked at him, the man who had become a surrogate father and a mentor. "If I don't go, she might not come home." 

There was silence between them for a moment and Halt didn't loosen his grip. Then he sighed and looked away. "I should have known better," he muttered to himself. "Horace, did you bring your horse?" 

Will looked up in surprise while Horace groaned. "Of course." 

"You didn't think we would let you go on your own, did you boy?" Halt asked, his voice a low rumble. "I'll do my best for you here, give you some time to get that creature and then get back." 

"Horace I can't ask you to do this," Will insisted. "It's my choice, I won't drag you into it." 

"And this is mine," his friend said, leading Kicker up next to Tug. The big man, in full armor, swung into the saddle with ease while the battle horse pranced a little beneath him. "You're not facing one of those things by yourself. And if it gives us the chance to rid the world of one more _valkan_ fine by me. I'm coming with you for as long as I can, Will." 

"I have to travel fast and Kicker isn't built for long distance speed," he snapped. He knew what he could be giving up, but he didn't want his best friend doing the same thing. 

Horace patted the battle horse's neck. "The sooner we go the sooner we'll catch up." He grinned at Will. "I can be just as stubborn as you, you know. You might as well accept it." 

"Be careful you two," Halt said. "Try not to get killed. And get back soon. I'll do what I can, but I can't hold off a judgment forever." 

Will gritted his teeth. He was frustrated with Horace and Halt, both, but if he was honest with himself he was also glad they had his back. Now that the decision had been made, the road ahead seemed easy. For now, all they had to do was ride. 

***** 

They rode as long and hard as they could without injuring the horses. Will chafed against the delay when they had to slow down, but years of long practice and patience helped keep his worry in check. They would certainly never arrive if their horses went lame. 

By the time he could see the watchtower in the distance, the time it took to travel there had blurred together. It hadn't mattered how long, really, as long as they got there before the _valkan_ crossed over. 

"Have you seen it?" Horace asked. They were walking their horses now as the tower grew infinitesimally larger. Surrounding it was a blurred shadow that Will knew were Duncan's forces. The _valkan_ would at least have a harder time getting through that. 

"Seen what?" Will asked. 

"The other place," Horace gestured with his free hand. "When you sent her through, did you see it?" 

Horace had been clued in to the secret behind the watchtower after Marian left. He hadn't been satisfied with their typical explanation. Then Will convinced the King, with Cassandra's help, that Horace should know. He still seemed unconvinced but when you had two members of the royal family and your best-friend Ranger swearing it was true, it was hard to argue. 

"No," Will answered him. "I never went through. There was a door and she walked through it. We stayed in the courtyard." 

He could feel Horace's look but Will kept his eyes forward. "Would you ever want to go?" Horace asked. 

Will let the question hang in the air. He wasn't sure if he was ready to deal with the consequences of going to another world, or acknowledging it more than they already have. But he couldn't think about that. "I'll do whatever it takes to bring her back. Eventually, yes, I want to go through because that means this war is over and Marian can come home." He glanced over and saw his friend's concerned expression. "Alyss says the cabin is too dreary now that she's gone," he smiled. 

Horace saw the comment for what it was, but played along. "Yes, I can see Alyss getting sentimental. Not that you ever would, huh?" 

"Who, me?" Will asked innocently. 

"Careful," Horace teased. "You'll turn into Halt before you know it." 

Will laughed. "Don't tell him, he likes to think he's unique." 

"Gracie seems to think so," Horace said wryly. "She coos over that old man. He's one of the few people besides Cassandra and I who can get her to stop crying when she is in full tantrum mode." 

"How are she and Ev—Cassandra doing?" Will asked about his goddaughter. "How old is she now?" 

"Almost a full year," Horace beamed with fatherly pride. "Cassandra has her hands full, with the baby and running the castle in Duncan's absence. Frankly, it was easier to convince her to stay at Castle Araluen because of Gracie. I miss them though," he admitted. "Sometimes I even miss when she would try to pull my beard." Will smiled at his friend who sounded so wistful. He was a big man and Will still looked small compared to him. But he always moved so carefully whenever he held his daughter. That was, until he became more comfortable and then it looked like the most natural thing in the world. 

"What about you and Alyss?" he asked. 

Will shook his head, feeling his cheeks heat a little. "No. We thought it best to wait until after the fighting, and we were both so busy beforehand. Then I took Marian as my apprentice…" he shrugged. He didn't want to admit out loud how much he did want a child of his own, but also how terrified he would be. He wanted to be a good father, especially because he never had one, besides Halt. And Marian felt as close to him as any daughter. "Someday, I think, but for now we have other things to worry about."

Horace nodded. "Speaking of, what's your plan? We don't even know if the _valkan_ has made it through already or if it's days away." 

"I figured we can just go into the camp and ask," Will said. "They don't know we don't have orders, and they probably won't question us." 

"Wait, that's it?" Horace teased. "The great Will Treaty, the one who always has a plan, just wants to walk up and ask?" His voice dripped with false incredulity and Will rolled his eyes. 

"Funny." He couldn't help but smile at the ribbing, particularly because Horace had been there on a few of his more…complicated plans. 

He felt a pull on his shirt and saw Tug lipping the hem. "Ready to go, boy?" He didn't feel self-conscious about talking to Tug in front of Horace. It was a common thing to see. What he didn't always tell his friend was that Tug tended to answer back. 

"Is Kicker ready?" Will asked. 

The knight patted his horse's neck. "I think we can finish out the ride." The two of them got back into the saddles and kicked their mounts into a gentle lope. The thin line of tents grew larger and more distinct and Will realized how thin this particular regiment was. They had to pull soldiers from it to help supplement their forces at the front. It resulted in a sparse group of men to guard the watchtower. 

Will looked around for sentries as they rode, but didn't see any. He also expected someone to come greet them, or at least check their credentials, but that didn't happen either. Will and Horace exchanged glances. Maybe it was a good thing there was no sense of alarm or urgency. It probably meant nothing tragic had happened. 

In fact, it was Cassandra who suggested they send some of the injured soldiers here to recover. That way, they would still be doing their duty but they would also have a place to rest and get better. It wasn't all injured soldiers, in case Jeren did try something, but the regiment certainly wasn't the fittest of the Araluen army. 

"Unacceptable," Horace muttered as the slowed up outside the first line of tents. "I need to have a talk with Varros. How could he let things get so lax?" 

Will heard a shout as he scanned the camp and then there was movement as people started gravitating towards the newcomers. There were about ten men, their uniforms tattered and stained, and many weren't even wearing armor. 

"I'm here to speak with General Varros," Will called, fishing out his oak leaf medallion so the soldiers could see it. Some of them glanced side-eyed at each other, murmuring. 

"Varros is injured," a voice spoke from the back of the group. Will tightened his grip on Tug's reins every so slightly. A figure pushed through the milling soldiers. He sported the symbol of captain but Will didn't recognize him. "I can escort you to him, sirs." 

Horace frowned. "Where is Captain Harrison?" 

The man's face fell. "He was killed. A _valkan_ attack, the same that injured the General. I took his place. Captain Jory, at your service," he saluted. 

Will couldn't believe it; Harrison, dead? They had just communicated with him a week ago. He still expected Harrison to come walking up to them, smiling and offering them a drink. "When did this happen?" 

"Please, sir, if you would let me escort you to the General, he can explain everything," Jory said. 

Will dismounted and walked up to him, clutching Tug's reins. "Did you kill the _valkan_? Do you know where it was headed? Were there any more?" 

Jory looked between Will and Horace, who had dismounted more slowly and was standing behind his friend. The captain held out his hands. "We managed to stop it, but other than that I'm not sure. General Varros can tell you more. If you'll follow me?" 

Jory turned on his heel and pushed his way through the gathering of men. The crowd parted like water. The new captain didn't look back, expecting the Ranger and knight to follow. Will looked behind him, his eyebrows raised. Horace shrugged, but Will noticed he kept one hand on the hilt of his sword. 

He had to agree with his friend, it was better to stay alert. They hadn't heard anything back at the main camp about an attack, or a change in leadership. But that could be attributed to slow communications. Nonetheless, Will kept his eyes moving, taking in all his surroundings. The people behind them didn't seem to disperse. Instead the closed back up behind them, forming a wall of bodies. 

They walked in silence through the small camp and Will noticed he couldn't hear the usual jumble of voices or clink of utensils that accompanied a group of soldiers at rest. Every once in a while he throught he could hear buzzing, but it was so brief he could have imagined it. But before he could pinpoint the nosie, or ask Horace about it, Jory stopped in front of the General's tent, it's pennant still flying at the top. He stood to the side and bowed. "He's waiting inside. We can take care of your horses, and prepare a place for you while you talk." 

"We're not staying long," Horace said. His voice was sharp and crisp, a tone Will didn't often hear from him. "Will, you go in. I'll wait out here. It's better not to crowd him." 

It was hard for Will to keep his expression blank. He knew Horace wanted to discuss the security of the camp with Varros, not to mention check on the man's injuries. Horace was great at getting to know and talk with his men, and it was unlike him not to check on someone he knew was wounded. But if he wanted to stay out here, he had a good reason. Will nodded and signaled Tug to stay. Luckily, the Ranger ponies did not need to be restrained if given the right signal. This left Horace with one hand free if something went wrong. 

Jory nodded and stepped back when Will pushed the flap aside and went in. The inside was dark but the smell that affronted him made his eyes water. He noticed a partition off to the side, separating the general's private quarters from the area where he would hold meetings. "General Varros?" Will called out. He pushed his hood back and listened, but only heavy silence answered. The hair on the back of his neck prickled and he instinctively grabbed his saxe knife. 

"General Varros, it's Will Treaty," he called again. His eyes darted around the dark corners of the tent but nothing stirred. A small desk was set up on the far left of the tent. A vase stood next to it, full to the brim with rolled up pieces of parchment. A portable hearth was collapsed on the ground, cold and unused for what looked like a long while. Will knelt and brushed his fingers on the ground. It was sticky with spilled oil. "Captain Jory brought me to see you," he looked up, checking all the corners. 

He could feel his heart pounding a rapid rhythm beneath his chest, but he kept his breathing steady and his movements smooth. Fear was not a new feeling to him, but he was surprised he felt it now. He shouldn't have, not in the heart of an Araluen encampment. 

Saxe knife in his right hand, he gripped the edge of the dividing sheet with his left, standing a little to the side. Will listened for any sign of movement, but there was nothing. The rank smell was stronger here and he tried to breath through his mouth to keep it at bay. He paused for a beat, and tightened the grip on his knife. Then he threw the sheet aside and darted into the General's private quarters. 

The sight and smell made him gag. It was much stronger here, and Will hated to admit it but he was glad there was only dim lighting. A body lay on the cot, still and lifeless, eyes staring up at the sky in shock. "Varros," he breathed. Will realized that if he kept looking at Varros' face, he could almost ignore the missing throat and the blood-soaked clothing. 

Will frowned, holding his cloak to his face to mask the smell. Jory had said the man was injured, and if that were the case it was always possible he could've died in the interim. But the throat was ripped out. There was no way he could have survived any time after the injury. But that would mean… 

He heard a muffled shout, then a clash of metal on metal. Tug's angry neigh cut through the air. Will spun around in alarm, letting out a particularly vulgar Skandian curse word. He pushed the partition aside, desperate to get to Horace. He had left his friend out there, alone, with who knows how many enemies. He didn't know what exactly had happened, but right now his only goal was getting out of there alive. 

"Will!" Horace shouted. His voice was a little overshadowed by the sounds of fighting. "I could use a little help out here!" 

Will slung his longbow off his back, thankful he hadn't taken of his full quiver of arrows before coming in the tent. Outside he could hear Kicker neighing a challenge to any enemies. There had been about ten men who greeted them, and Horace could at least hold off that many, with Kicker and Tug's help, until Will lent Horace his assistance. But how many more could be hiding among the tents? And what had happened to their own men? 

He had to think fast. He could just burst out, weapons blazing. But then they would be surrounded and he only had so many arrows. If the enemies got too close, his bow wouldn't be much help. Besides, Rangers worked better from the shadows, from an angle. He needed to get around them. 

Will hefted his saxe knife and went to the back of the tent. He stabbed the metal point through the fabric and with a vicious yank ripped it down to the ground. He slipped out the makeshift back door and, using his cloak and the distraction of Horace's miniature battle in front, made his way down a few tents and back around. 

"Get in there!" he heard Jory shouting, from a convenient place at the back of the group. "You idiots can't get through one man?" 

Will clenched his teeth and placed an arrow to the string. The arrow flew silently through the air. Jory's shout was cut off with only the faintest gurgle before his body collapsed to the ground. 

He was on the move before the others could pinpoint where the arrow came from. He ran from tent to tent, firing arrows into the mob and creating confusion. At least the tents provided concealment. Horace wielded his sword, laying out attackers left and right. Kicker had no trouble helping his master, rearing up and flailing his powerful hooves at anyone stupid enough to go near him. Tug was backed against the tent, his legs stock straight and nostrils flaring. His ears were perked forward and he looked ready to bolt. But if someone came close he would kick out with uncanny speed, shattering bone before anyone had realized what happened. 

One by one the attackers fell. Not many more had joined the fight from the original ten that greeted them. But something was still bothering Will. How could such a small force have overrun the Araluen camp? 

Horace was standing off against the last two soldiers. He didn't seem to be breathing hard, but Will noticed a gouge on his cheek. The three of them were completely still, eyes locked on each other. Then something in the air changed. In an unspoken signal the two enemies attacked. Horace retreated quickly, angling his sword to block. He only had one weapon on hand but he moved like water, smooth and fluid. The other two's movements were getting choppy and desperate. They seemed to realize that maybe they had taken on more than they could handle. But Will couldn't take the chance that Horace would falter. Will brought his bow up, sighting down the arrow's shaft and waited for the perfect opportunity. They only needed one person alive to question. 

His breathing was slow and steady and his concentration was all on the shot. Will watched the rhythm of the fight, matching his breaths to the counts. Beat by beat he synced with the fighters and he felt a bit of exhilaration when he realized couldn't miss. He was about to release when out of the corner of his eye he saw Tug's head shoot up in alarm. 

Something large and heavy slammed into him from behind. Will flew off his feet and fell to the ground, getting a face-full of dirt and grass. He felt the arrow had been about to shoot snap beneath him and heard the snap of the arrow string breaking. 

Horace yelled as Will rolled to the side, desperately trying to avoid whatever blow might be coming from above. When he got to his feet, moving into a crouch, he saw what it was that had hit him and his veins ran cold. He should have known. 

The _valkan_ grinned at him. It's fur was matted with dried blood and as Will watched it slowly licked the claws on its hands clean. "Will Treaty," it said, it's voice sounding like rocks grinding together. "It is an honor." 

"So this was you," he said. A part of him was surprised at how much hate he could hear in his own voice. Never before had he felt something so strongly. But deep down, he knew—he hated these creatures. 

The creature shrugged. "Me, and your brother rodents who follow our master," it said. "I wanted a bit of fun before completing my assignment. It's much more exciting than simply sneaking through. Though, to be honest, I was hoping for more of a fight." 

"You'll get one," he threatened. Will drew his saxe knife and his throwing knife, getting ready. "You won't make it out of here alive." 

The _valkan_ laughed. "Ah, I wish you were my assignment. Unfortunately," it bared its teeth, red eyes glittering. It drew out an ugly short sword from a scabbard at its side. This was the first time Will had seen them use a weapon. "I have another target." 

The _valkan_ lunged and Will barely had time to knock the blade away with his weapons. He tried to leap forward and close in on the creature's unprotected side, but the creature leaned back and he missed. Will dodged another jab of the sword, and ducked underneath it. He swiped the saxe knife at it's belly. The _valkan_ hissed and Will grinned when he realized he scored a hit. 

The two of them disengaged and circled each other. The _valkan_ touched a claw to the scratch Will made. It licked the blood away and then snarled. It came at Will with an underhand slash and he jumped back out of its reach. But the creature pressed his advantage and kept swinging, leaving no room for Will to get in close where his shorter weapons would be effective. 

The _valkan_ whirled the sword around its head and then brought it down in an overhead swing. Will caught the blade between his two knives. He knew he was in trouble. The wolf-like creatures were bred for speed and strength and were much heavier than he. The muscles in the _valkan_ 's arm bulged as he pressed his advantage. Will could feel his feet sliding inch by inch under the pressure. He had one shot to get out of this situation. 

Will bent his knees for extra leverage and then surged upwards, thrusting the weapon away from him. In the split second where the _valkan_ was unguarded Will brought down his saxe knife and stabbed the _valkan_. The blade sank into the creature's flesh and then the tip bounced off bone. He could feel the hilt vibrate in his hand. The creature howled in pain and Will tried to finish it off with his throwing knife, but in the heat of the battle he forgot about the creature's main weapon: it's claws. 

He felt them punch through the thin fabric of his shirt and into his side, but he didn't feel anything but cold. Then pain flared in white-hot ribbons as the claws ripped through his flesh and down his leg, scrapping bone digging into the thick muscle of his thigh. The claws tore free and left four gaping tears in his body. Will screamed and his leg buckled. He fell to one knee, determined to remain as upright as possible. 

"Will!" he heard Horace's terrified yell behind him, but his vision was taking up by the furious _valkan_ leering down at him. Using up the rest of his quickly fading energy, Will stabbed the throwing knife into the _valkan_ 's abdomen. The thing yelped and snarled, yanking both weapons out and tossing them aside. It didn't even seem to register the fact that it was wounded, but Will knew that at least the last knife had done some internal damage. Even if he died now, he would take that thing with him. 

A hand grabbed him around his throat and he felt the claws prick the back of his neck. "I wish I could finish you off right now," it growled at him. "But your little brat Ranger is waiting for me." Will's eyes widened and he could feel the _valkan_ 's rumbling chuckle. "She may have defeated the pup the master sent after her first, but I want you to know…I'm going to make her beg for mercy before the end. Oh, and you may want to get out of here soon. The master is sending another group of rodents this way. If you can walk, that is." 

The _valkan_ shoved Will to the ground. He didn't see it run off but suddenly Horace was there, pressing something to the wounds in his side. "I'm going to kill every single on of those bastards," Horace rumbled. "Gorlog's beard, Will." His hand shook a little as he ripped pieces of cloth from his shirt and bound Will's seeping wounds. 

"Horace," Will said, placing a hand on his friend's arm. "Jeren is sending more men. This was just an initial strike." 

Horace stopped ministering for a moment as he registered what Will was telling him. "They'll come at us from behind," he murmured. "We thought all their forces were at the front. If they hit us without warning...that could be it." 

"We have to warn everyone," Will said, grimacing as a fresh wave of pain moved through his body. He started to wobble and Horace grabbed him. 

"We have to get you back," his friend said firmly. "You're riding with me, there is no way you are staying in the saddle the whole way back." 

"I'm fine," he snapped. But when Horace got him on his feet his vision turned fuzzy for a moment and he couldn't get his balance. 

"Yeah, you're 'fine'." Horace said, supporting Will so he wouldn't fall. It wasn't hard to hear the sarcasm in his friend's voice. "You are always fine, aren't you, until you pass out from blood loss!" 

Will thought that part might not be too far off. He tried to help Horace get him into Kicker's saddle, but his arms didn't seem to have their usual strength. He could feel the blood seeping through whatever bandages Horace had put on. Beside them, Tug nickered in concern. 

"Come on, Tug," Horace said. "Let's get Will out of here." 

Horace spurred his horse and they left the destroyed and slaughtered camp behind them. If Jeren really had forces coming this way, and they could no longer rely on the regiment of loyal Araluen forces, then they were in even more trouble than anyone realized. 

Will closed his eyes against the pain that spiked when Kicker's hooves hit the ground. The watchtower receded as they put one mile and then two between them and the gateway as fast as possible. _I'm sorry, Marian_ , Will thought. His body started to realize that passing out might not be such a bad idea, and it might even ease the guilt in his mind for a little while. _I failed. Please, I hope you're safe_.


	15. The Sheriff's Hospitality

Marian screamed as the leather ripped another strip of skin from her back. Tears ran down her face, thick and fast. A sob of pain forced its way past her throat and she hated how her body was betraying her weakness. She didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing her hurt, but it was too much. The pain needed to be felt and it needed to be released. The heavy iron cuffs on her wrists cut into her skin as she moved. She could feel the warm blood trickle slowly down her arm, tantalizingly slow. The cuffs held her hands high above her head, chaining her to the ceiling. Her toes barely scraped the floor as she tried desperately to ease the weight on her wrists. Those chains were the only things holding her up and the weight of her body on her raw skin was excruciating. When the whip whistled again and sliced down her back her body swayed from the force of it and she whimpered. 

She could feel the dried blood on her face, the skin tight underneath it. Marian blinked away the tears, trying to see the man in front of her. The Sheriff sat in a wooden chair, his right ankle resting on his left knee as calm as if he was waiting for a cup of tea. Fresh blood dripped down her back and on to the floor and her toes slipped in the puddle it made at her feet. 

"Now, now," the Sheriff said, getting up "no need to cry." He took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped her face gently. Marian glared at him and then spit a wad of blood and mucus in his face. He stood there for a moment and used the handkerchief to wipe his own face. Then he nodded to the man behind her. There was a snap in the air and she screamed again, her throat raw. How much skin did she even have left? 

"Tell me where they are hiding," he asked. 

Marian laughed, but it came out more like a wheeze. "Never. I'll die before that happens." 

"Well, you'll die eventually," the Sheriff said, shrugging his shoulders. A jolt of fear ran through Marian's body but she hid it well. The swelling and dried blood on her face helped since she couldn't make any expression without wincing. "Pretty soon, actually," he added. The Sheriff turned around, picking up a long wooden pole from beside his chair and ran his hand along it, inspecting it. Marian watched him carefully, trying to adjust her weight without hurting herself more. Two days ago they had sliced her open with a knife and then cauterized the wounds with a molten iron rod. Then yesterday they went traditional and just beat her with fists. Marian had her nose broken before and she knew what it felt like, but the pain was just as bad as the first time. That's where the blood had come from that was crusted on her face. Today though, they had brought out the whip because she still hadn't told him what he wanted. 

"You see," the Sheriff said facing her and tapping the pole in his hand. "I know Robin will not let his girl stay here long." His face changed suddenly, becoming blank. But his eyes were almost euphoric as he slammed the pole into her stomach. Marian leaned over, gasping, trying to breathe through the pain. She retched a little bit, but nothing came up. 

"You and he and your pathetic little band of peasants have been nothing but trouble." _Whap_. Marian groaned, instinctively trying to curl in on herself but unable to because of the chains. "I'm going to make sure they watch you die." _Whap_. "I will break you, and I will break him." _Whap_. 

"I," 

_Whap_

"Will," 

_Whap_

"Win," 

_SNAP_

Marian tried to scream but all that came out was a raspy whimper. She knew at least two ribs were broken. Air wheezed through her trapped lungs and she hoped her broken bones wouldn't puncture anything. 

"N—no," she whispered. 

The Sheriff sneered and threw the pole to the floor. Then he eyed her and fished into his pocket. He pulled out a gold coin and ran it through his fingers. Marian squinted at the coin and paled a little when she realized it was one of hers. The Sheriff looked at her and held the coin in front of her face. "What's this, Marian?" he asked. "It's quite unusual, as is the cloak you wore. I've never heard an accent like yours before, either. Tell me, where do you come from?" 

Marian glared at him with more fury than she had thought she had. She didn't understand this sudden shift in questioning but she didn't really care. This man would not taunt her with questions about her home. The Sheriff smiled thinly and pocketed the coin. "Don't worry," he said. "You don't have to tell me." He trailed a finger down the side of her face and she jerked away on instinct, ignoring the flare of pain in her side. "I'll see it for myself soon enough. I know Prince John is eager to see what's…over there. It won't be long now. As soon as Richard's gone, Prince John will have England and then he can turn his sights on the bigger goal." Marian blinked. _What did that mean?_

The Sheriff leaned close to her and she could feel his hot damp breath on her neck when he whispered, "A friend of ours is already making your world ripe for the taking." 

Marian felt cold. _No_ , she thought. _He can't mean..._ She looked at him, unable to mask the horror. "What?" she almost whimpered. 

He stood up straight and simply smiled. Then he looked over her shoulder at the man behind her. "Do what you need to get the answers. Just make sure she can stand long enough to fit the rope around her neck." 

He walked out of her vision. "Wait!" she yelled, not caring if she was giving him what he wanted. "What did you mean?" 

The only thing she heard was his footsteps on the stone floor and then the slow creak and thud of the dungeon door slamming shut. She noticed the heavy footfalls of the Sheriff's torturer move closer to her and felt a glimmer of hope that the whip might be done. But then she felt him grab her hands and splay her fingers wide. 

Marian suppressed a sob. She would not beg. She would not give him the satisfaction. When he dislocated the first of her fingers Marian's last panicked thought was for her friends an entire world away before she sank into unconsciousness. 

RMRMRMRMRMRMR 

The silence was deafening. After her screams and the lash of the whip had echoed in the deep chamber, the absence of those sounds roared in her ears. It was dark in the cell but Marian was thankful for it. She could hear the chains on her wrist clink faintly together above her but at least she couldn't see the damage. 

She didn't know how long she had been unconscious. But when she came to, she was finally alone. It was only now she really let the tears fall as the reality of her situation settled on her bruised and aching shoulders. Her execution was soon, she knew. Robin and John and their group couldn't risk a rescue. In the silence Marian realized she was never going to see them again. She would never walk the forests of Araluen with Will, or talk with Halt on the cabin porch in the early evenings. She would never ride Sky, never sneak her an apple or be privy to the comments no one else could understand. She would never hug Carey or James, never see her family, again. She wouldn't be able to figure out what the Sheriff had meant about Prince John. She had failed the people she loved. And it broke her heart. 

Marian's throat hurt from trying to hold in the sound of her grief and her chest hurt from simply breathing. She could feel the tears make tracks through the sweat, dirt, and blood on her face and catch on the corners of her mouth and the bottom of her chin. She held those she loved close to her heart, saying goodbye in the only way she could, hoping someday they would know what happened, hoping they would be alive to find out, and that they would understand. 

The door behind her groaned open and she heard it shut quickly. Footsteps echoed in the chamber, lighter and quicker than the torturer's and definitely not the Sheriff's. Marian raised her eyes, waiting for the visitor to come around into her line of sight. 

The orange flicker of a torch cast a grotesque version of her shadow on the wall in front of her. The footsteps slowed and they came around cautiously, the shadow moving around her with the approach of the torchbearer. Marian raised her eyebrows in surprise when her visitor made himself known. 

"Come to gloat?" she muttered, hanging her head. 

Sir Guy stared at her. "Why don't you just tell him what he wants to know? You could save yourself a lot of pain." 

She looked up at the hint of sympathy in his voice. "I will not betray my friends," she said. "Loyalty is worth more than a lack of pain." 

"You shouldn't have even gotten involved," he replied harshly. 

"And let these people suffer?" she asked him. "Let _your_ people suffer? How can you just stand by and watch while he destroys everything?" She had raised her voice at the end but winced when she did and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ride out another wave of pain. 

Sir Guy barked out a sharp and hollow laugh. "You think I had a choice? If I didn't work with the Sheriff I would die. At least with him I have food, clothing, decent money…" 

"And you have these things because of the suffering of others," Marian said softly. 

"Don't you judge me!" he snapped. 

Marian looked at him sadly and let the silence stretch. He was angry but she didn't think he was angry with her. In fact, she couldn't quite figure out the expression on his face. "Why are you here, Guy?" 

He glanced up at the manacles around her wrist. "I—I don't know." 

Marian snorted. "Are you going to break me out? Might be a bit hard, I seem to have lost the ability to move." 

Guy looked pained and Marian remembered his look of disgust when he saw her in disguise after the Sheriff's assault, before he realized who she actually was. He had been a cruel person, but he was also under the thumb of a cruel man. He didn't always agree with the Sheriff's way of doing things. 

He shook his head. "I can't get you out." Marian scoffed. She didn't think that would happen. "But I think I can fix your fingers," he said. She looked at him in surprise. She certainly hadn't expected any sort of help at all. "Just, try to stay quiet." 

Guy reached up and one by one took her swollen and purpled fingers and popped them back into place. Marian's jaw ached from trying to keep in the sobs, but she wasn't as successful as she would have liked. 

After he was finished, Guy looked at her one more time. "I'm sorry Marian. I wish you could have been spared this." He ducked his head down and walked quickly out of the chamber, the torchlight that danced on the wall growing smaller and smaller until Marian was left in the darkness again. 

RMRMRMRMRMRMR 

Robin lingered in the city, standing just outside the castle keep's walls against the side of a derelict home. He kept his hood up and stayed in the shadows, doing his best to escape the notice of others around him. The gate was open and two soldiers were stationed on either side of it. Through the gap he glimpsed the incomplete structure of the gallows being built in the courtyard, and beyond that the door to Castle Nottingham itself. The constant hammering as men continued to build the gallows almost drowned out the rest of the city sounds behind him. 

She was so close. He itched to just walk through the gate and pull her out of there but he knew that was impossible. His one and only shot of getting her out was the same day the Sheriff was planning to execute her. A narrow window, but one he didn't have an option of missing. 

He felt a presence at his shoulder and turned. "Tomorrow's the day," Little John said quietly, confirming their suspicions. He, too, stared at the builders in the courtyard. "The whole city is ordered to attend." 

RMRMRMRMR 

The dungeon door opened one more time. She heard the quiet footfalls of her captors and then the clanging of the chains as her cuffs were unlocked. When the restraint was finally gone, she collapsed to the floor, coughing. She couldn't breathe properly and when she willed herself to stand her body refused to obey. It was like she had no muscles left. Her wrists were bleeding anew and, after a late night visit from the Sheriff, she could no longer see clearly out of her right eye. He had one last shot to get the information he wanted from her, before executing her. At least she hadn't given him that. 

Rough hands yanked her up to her feet and shoved her forward towards the door. Marian stumbled and then fell forward on the stones, her skin tearing even more. She gasped as her broken ribs grated against each other inside her body. 

"Oh for Heaven's sake, you're going to have to carry her out," an unfamiliar voice grumbled from above her. 

Hands once again lifted her and the haze of pain she had been living in for the past four days sharpened and she cried out. She couldn't focus on where they were going, only that they were going up. 

"Jesus, do they need to hang her? Leave her like this and she'll die anyway," another voice said, this one closer to the top of her head. She heard the words and wanted to say something back. She was right there! But the meaning of them began to sink in and she realized she was on the way to her meet her death. She decided to drift back into the pain. 

It was the sunlight that told her they were outside. It's bright golden light burned her eyes and the crisp, late winter air would have been lovely on any other day. It helped clear her head, but it also made her more aware of her sorry condition. When they exited the keep Marian jerked back, but was met with a wall of cloth and chain. Her eyes watered as they moved further outside and down the stone steps, blurring her vision. 

When she finally blinked her eyes clear, what she saw made her want to cringe. The courtyard was full of people, and she realized the humming she had heard when the exited the castle was from the crowd and not her own head. The moment she started down the stairs the humming rose to an angry rumble. Marian raised her chin, glaring at the huge wooden construction in the middle of the yard with its woven noose dangling in the still air. As much as she wanted to meet her death with dignity, she couldn't stand on her own just yet. So she settled with the glare. 

She noticed the Sheriff standing on the scaffold, a triumphant smile on his face. There was a pathway leading from the stairs to the noose, lined on either side by a wall soldiers. Their spears provided a marker for those in the back to see the journey to her execution. Marian scanned the crowd as she was forced down to the steps but her view was soon blocked by a sea of faces. Many of them were dirt-streaked, tired, and gaunt. The people's clothes were tattered and threadbare. But it was their eyes she noticed the most. They looked at her with sympathy and sorrow, but behind it all was righteous anger. 

It was a shorter walk than she had thought, and shorter than she had hoped for. Their steps rang hollow as they walked up the three rickety stairs and on to the platform. The soldiers positioned her just before the noose and she stared through it, keeping her gaze above the heads of the crowd. Marian wanted to keep her eyes open as long as possible, taking in the light and the color of the world one last time. 

"This woman has been tried and convicted of high treason!" the Sheriff shouted to the now silent mob. She could feel their rage as she swept the crowd with her gaze. She was looking for someone, hoping he would be there and then hoping, of course, that he wouldn't be in case he played right into the Sheriff's hands. 

Marian's breath caught as she met the dark brown eyes she knew so well, shaded under the green cowl of a yeoman's cloak. There was so much she wanted to say to him. They were so close to each other but there was no way she would be able to reach him now. Her eyes filled and she tried to tell him goodbye, feeling the tears spill over and run down her cheeks. But she raised her chin even higher, not ashamed of her grief. 

"Because of her crimes she is sentenced to die." The Sheriff turned to her. "Any last words?" he smirked. 

Marian took a shallow breath, trying to gauge the pain in her ribs. "Yes," she said. Her voice was weak but it still carried to the first few rows of people. She could hear the ripple of whispers as those in front carried her words to everyone else. She looked to her right and stared the Sheriff down. "You will lose." The Sheriff blinked and the whisper became a murmur. "The pain and fear you have sowed for so long will come back to you a hundredfold. The people will rise. Robin Hood is a beacon of hope that will never fade. You. Will. Lose." _And when the Rangers hear of what you have done, you will have even more reason to fear,_ she added to herself. 

She could tell her words struck a chord because the Sheriff's face started to get red and blotchy. "Do it," he snarled at the hangman. Marian was pushed forward and the supporting hands left her. It took every ounce of will power she had to lock her knees and keep herself from collapsing. She felt the rough, heavy weight of the rope encircle her neck. Marian looked up at the sky, a clear beautiful blue that reminded her of the day she first stepped foot in the Ranger's cabin at Redmont. 

" _Welcome to your new home, Marian," Will said, opening the door to the simple forest cabin. There was a vase of fresh flowers on a table next to the door, and everything looked clean and tidy. She raised her nose to the gentle scent of baking bread and she could hear someone moving around in another room, guessing it was Alyss. Marian looked around with wide eyes, not really believing she was actually here. She turned to Will who was trying to hide a smile._

_"Thank you," she said._

_"Oh, don't thank me yet," Will raised his eyebrows in mock seriousness. She thought it was completely sincere, at the time but it wasn't until later Marian learned to tell when he was joking and when he wasn't. "We have a lot of work to do and you may not like it at the end."_

_Marian shook her head so hard her braid whipped across her shoulder. "I will. I know it. I'm going to be a Ranger."_

_This time Will did smile and Marian couldn't help but smile back. This was her dream and it was because of Will Treaty she had found it. And it became so much more than she imagined._

_"Let's get started," Will said._

She closed her eyes as the memory faded, a slight smile on her face. 

The trapdoor opened and Marian dropped. 

RMRMRMRMR 

When they brought her out, it took everything in him not to rush the guards or put an arrow in their chests. She was so pale and she couldn't even stand by herself. The angry murmurs he heard from the townspeople only echoed what he felt. Anger raced through him, anger and the desire to take all of her pain away somehow. If he could have just switched places with her…Robin shook his head. She would never have let him. Every step made her wince and Robin saw the blood crusted on her clothes and on her face. Even her fingers were discolored. One eye was swollen shut and it didn't look like she was breathing right. Her entire face was bruised and he could only image what else they had done to her in the five days she had been in captivity. He tightened his hands on the bow hidden beneath his cloak to keep them from shaking. He looked at the Sheriff, who was grinning and he imagined over and over what it would be like to beat that smile off of his face. But he couldn't focus on that right now. If they were to succeed today he had to stay focused. He could think about giving the Sheriff what he deserved later. Right now, they had a rescue to perform. Robin scanned the crowd, picking out his people and making sure they were in position. John was gripping Jenny's shoulder and Robin noticed Will looking on in shock. 

He looked back to find Marian and panicked when he couldn't see her. But then he realized she was simply moving through the crowd up to the scaffold. When they brought her up onto the platform he saw her scanning the audience. He stared, willing for her to see him, ignoring the two soldiers at her side. His heart tightened when he saw her almost collapse. But Robin recognized the determined stare, the defiant lift of the chin. They hadn't broken her. He watched her almost fall and then straighten her shoulders and stay on her feet. Then she saw him. 

Her grey eyes looked almost silver in the light and he could see the pain there, but the peace as well. Robin didn't even notice all of the people pressed around him. All he wanted was to go to her, to say something, but it was impossible. He realized she was trying to say goodbye and he tried to let her know that he wasn't going to let her die, that he had a plan. All she had to do was hold on. If she could just know that, give her hope she would be all right. But he couldn't tell her. He saw the tears start to roll down her face and instinctively he stepped forward only to be stopped by a wall of people. He heard the Sheriff start to speak, his voice sliding over the people like oil. But Robin didn't hear what he said. He didn't care. 

Silence settled on the courtyard like a blanket. Marian smiled at him and Robin stood still. "You will lose," she said to the Sheriff. The crowd whispered and it sounded like wind swirling around him as her words passed from one person to another. She finally broke his gaze and stared at her captor. Even though her body was broken and beaten the Sheriff seemed to be the one cowering. "The pain and fear you have sowed for so long will come back to you a hundredfold. The people will rise. Robin Hood is a beacon of hope that will never fade. You. Will. Lose." 

When she said those words, his heart swelled and he could feel the people around him straighten in pride. She seemed to radiate strength and hope and, for a moment, it descended over the crowd and burned away the sick feeling left by the Sheriff's announcement. But then she was spun back around and the rope was put over her head. The people got louder, their anger turned ugly. Robin could see the Sheriff's mouth move but couldn't hear anything. His stomach flipped and he discreetly moved his cloak to get his bow free. There was a small quiver of arrows tied to his side so the guards wouldn't notice, but that also made them difficult to get to. He only had one shot to get this right or Marian was going to die. 

The hangman pulled the lever and the trapdoor opened with a thud. Someone screamed as Marian fell, but Robin's focus was on the shot. As soon as the lever was pulled he let the arrow fly. He saw Marian jerk for a moment but then the arrowhead sliced through the rope and she fell through the door, disappearing below the scaffold. There was a breath of shocked silence and then the crowd roared, surging forward. 

Their goal was the Sheriff and his soldiers; his men knew what to do. But Robin had a different goal. As he shoved and pushed his way through the roiling mass of people, his eyes were fixed on the black empty space of the open trapdoor and the woman who lay beneath it. 

RMRMRMRMRMR 

The rope constricted around her neck, and her feet scrabbled for somewhere to stand. Her chest screamed with pain and she opened her mouth for air, but nothing was coming through. But then she felt the rope shiver and snap and she fell to the ground, hitting the flagstones with a groan. She couldn't move. Everything hurt, but she took in mouthfuls of blessed air now that the rope lay slack and loose around her. After a few moments of lying there, she realized the roaring in her ears wasn't from hitting her head, it was the people outside. All she could see was surging feet and dust rising in the air, making her cough and her ribs hurt even more. A little blood splattered onto the stones as she coughed, but she rolled on her uninjured side and tried to push herself up. She needed to get out of there. 

She heard shuffling coming near her and she tried to turn around to see who it was, groping for anything to defend herself with. Marian was in no shape to fend anyone off, but she could at least try. 

"Marian!" 

She almost cried with relief when she recognized Robin's voice. Any anger she had felt towards him during the fight had long since disappeared after she was taken. There was no point being angry with him when she had been about to die. She saw him duck under the construction and crawl towards her, his relief obvious. His hands gently slipped underneath her arms to help her sit up. She gasped and closed her eyes against the dizziness that came with the pain. When she opened them again he was in front of her and she could see the concern etched on his face. She smiled at him so he wouldn't worry, at least not yet. They still needed to get out of there. "Cutting it a bit close there, archer boy," she said. 

His laugh was shaky but no less happy, and his hand brushed back some her hair that had fallen in her eyes. 

"Well, we had to give them a show, right?" he said. Without realizing it she leaned into his hand, just happy he was there. But they both jerked apart when they heard a loud thump from above them. 

"Get them!" the Sheriff shouted. There was yelling and the noise from the mob that had been pushed away when they saw each other swarmed over them. Robin put her arms around his shoulders to support her and started moving forward. "Come on, we have to move." 

There was a white hot burst of pain in her side and she saw stars. "What is it?" he asked frantically when she cried out. 

"My ribs," she wheezed. "Some of them are broken." 

His jaw clenched but he shifted to her other side and the two of them moved out from under the shelter of the scaffold. The cacophony of sound swamped them and Marian looked around taking, in the swirl of color and noise and trying to make sense of it all. 

Robin tried shoving their way through and she could see the tops of the gates they were aiming for. They were jostled so much he ended up dragging her, despite her efforts to carry her own weight. She couldn't know for sure but the people around them, when they realized who they were, seemed to surround them and keep them out of sight of the soldiers. It seemed to work for a bit but, in the end, the townspeople's efforts just weren't enough. 

The people in front of them split apart like water, falling over each other and screaming. Robin stopped short and Marian looked up, trying to focus through the haze in her mind. One of the Sheriff's men appeared before them and brandished a sword. He swung at Robin who grappled for a dagger and held it in front of them, deflecting the blade just in time. The screech of metal on metal rang in Marian's ears. She stepped back from him, to give Robin room to maneuver. She was no help to him in this state. 

There was another clang, and the people around them were so riled up they were either desperate to get away or desperate to get to the Sheriff, who was waving a sword from the top of the scaffold and screaming orders at everyone else. She didn't see Sir Guy anywhere, but she couldn't really see anything anyway. 

The mob behind them parted once more and another soldier appeared, pushing people to the ground and not caring that others were trampling them. It was all starting to get out of control and innocent people were getting hurt. Her execution was turning into a full-scale riot. 

Marian noticed a flash of sunlight on metal as the soldier brandished a dagger. She was kneeling on the ground, out of his line of sight, which was all she could manage at the moment. The man was intent on Robin, whose back was to him as he fought off the first man that had attacked them. The soldiers weren't after her, Marian realized, they were after Robin. Of course. The Sheriff didn't care if she lived or died…Robin Hood was his target. The Sheriff never really cared about the information. He just wanted to get Robin out in the open. 

Marian looked desperately on the ground for a weapon, something to defend them with. But there was nothing, no stone or stick that she could grab. There was only dirt amidst the shuffling feet. 

Robin grunted as he blocked another strike. She couldn't distract him from his battle now or they would both be dead. Marian forced herself to stand and threw herself in front of the soldier just as he lunged forward to stab Robin in the back. The soldier's eyes widened in surprise as his momentum carried him forward. 

Marian felt the dagger enter her body, just under her sternum. It felt like cold ice sliced into her chest and then slowly trickled through the rest of her body. She couldn't make a sound as she was pushed backwards, hitting Robin's back with her own. The man drew out the dagger in surprise and warm blood flowed over her hands. She tried to say something but all that come out of her mouth was a groan as she slid down Robin's back and landed on the ground. She heard Robin yell and then a furious clash of metal. 

She looked up into the eyes of the man who had stabbed her, who had tried to kill Robin. She couldn't do anything but look, her body going cold. She hated this helpless feeling but her desire to move was overwhelmed by the desire to rest. She thought the soldier was going to finish her off, but as she lay there, she saw him go down, felled by a helmeted figure who disappeared back into the fray. 

She tried to call out, to thank whoever it was, but she couldn't make a sound. The noise around her faded in and out and she looked up into the sky. the edges of her vision were getting fuzzy. "No, no, no, no, no," Robin appeared in front of her, a panicked look in his eyes. It took a few moments for her to focus on his face. She could feel his hands covering her wound, but only distantly like she was wrapped in layers of blankets. "Marian, come on," he told her. "Stay awake, please." 

She wanted to say something but her mind couldn't figure what words she needed so she just stared up at him. 

Robin looked up frantically, "John!" he screamed. He looked at her again. "You're going to be fine. We've almost made it," he told her. His other arm came around her back and pulled her closer to him. She wondered why the riot had died down so quickly when she realized the jumble of yelling and screaming had grown fainter. The only thing she could really hear was her own slow heartbeat and Robin, urging her to stay awake. 

_But I'm so tired_ , she thought. She had already said her goodbyes in her heart, thinking she was going to die anyway. As long as Robin and John and whoever else they had brought made it safely back she could sleep. 

"Please," he whispered to her, holding her. "Please stay awake." She thought she felt lips kissing her hair but it was only a passing sensation. His voice sounded thick, like he was crying, and with great effort she turned her head to look at him. It was like moving a sack of bricks, her head felt so heavy. In fact, her whole body felt heavy. She couldn't feel the pain of her broken ribs or healing fingers anymore. She couldn't feel the pain from the burns or the wounds on her back. The blood on her hands no longer felt warm. 

Marian looked up into Robin's face and he tried to smile at her, pushing her hair back with his hands. Her heart warmed slightly and she tried to do the same to him but her arm wouldn't move. For some reason, at this moment she remembered when he kissed her in the market square, the heat she felt at his touch only a distant memory, not quite enough to burn away the encroaching cold. 

There was a voice above her and she saw Robin look up. Then she was picked up off of the ground. Robin was carrying her and they were moving. Over his shoulder she watched the scaffold and mob recede. "Marian, just hold on," Robin murmured as the moved through the crowd. She felt her eyes flutter close and Robin's voice echoed in her head as the darkness swallowed her. 

_Hold on_


	16. Robin Alone

Sky burst into the campsite, white eyed and panting, sweat lathered on her sides, with two riders on her back. One was limp and the other searching frantically as he hauled on the reins and the pony skidded to a stop. People scrambled to their feet, shouting in surprise. "Lucy!" Robin cried, sliding of Sky's back and clutching Marian's limp body to him. Exclamations of shock and despair echoed throughout the campsite. Hannah pushed Gen's face into her skirt so the little girl wouldn't see. 

"Lucy!" Robin's voice cracked as he looked desperately for their only physician. Lucy pushed her way through the growing crowd of people and rushed over to Robin. She looked at Marian's pale face, the blood-soaked clothes, and refused to let any thoughts show on her face for the sake of Robin's sanity. 

"Get her into my tent," she said brusquely. Robin followed her, almost clipping her heels with every step. Lucy pushed aside the tent flap and he walked in, laying Marian on Lucy's bedroll as gently as he could. Marian didn't even stir when he jostled her and his heart clenched in fear. 

"She's going to be fine, right?" he asked, looking up at the older woman. Lucy looked into his eyes and struggled to keep her face from betraying her own fear. He was barely hanging on, needing to believe she would live. 

"Get me some water and bandages," she said, ignoring his question. Robin sprang to his feet and sprinted out of the tent. Lucy heard Sky nicker forlornly outside and for a passing moment she thought the horse might be actually calling to her mistress. But that thought drifted away as she started to take stock of the injuries, the stab wound to her stomach obviously the most pressing of them all. 

She heard Robin come back into the tent and he handed her the supplies she requested. Then she turned to the young man, his eyes wild and hair disheveled and ordered, "Now you have to leave." 

Robin blinked, not sure he had heard her right. "What?" 

"Robin, you have to leave. Let me do my work without having to stumble and worry over you." 

He glared at her but she was tough and was one of the few who didn't quake under his anger. She also knew the anger was stemming from his fear. "I am not leaving her." 

"Yes, you are," she said calmly but not without sympathy. She could see how much he cared for Marian, even if he didn't realize the full extent of that feeling. She saw the flap open and John enter the tent. Lucy gave him a look and John nodded as he came closer to Robin. John's face paled as he saw Marian's still form on the mat but he clenched his jaw and straightened his shoulder. He put his hand on Robin's shoulder, who jumped and looked up into his friend's face. 

"Come on, Rob. You need to get cleaned up anyway and the best thing for Marian right now is to let Lucy do what she can." 

Robin looked down at his shirt, stained dark red with blood. _Marian's_ blood. His hands started to shake and he clenched them into fists. They had been so close, the gate had been right there, and then… 

"You'll tell me, as soon as you're done," he said. No one mentioned the slight quaver to his voice. "As soon as…as anything happens?" 

Lucy nodded. "Of course." No one was going to say _if she dies_. It felt too possible at the moment. 

John steered Robin out of the tent, letting Lucy get to work. As soon as they exited the tent they stepped into a waiting crowd of worried people. So many pairs of eyes were staring at them and he became more conscious of the way his shirt stuck to his body because of the blood. Questions bombarded them from all sides. 

"What happened?" 

"Where are the others?" 

"Is Marian going to be all right?" 

Robin wasn't sure who had asked the last one and he tried to answer. It took him a minute to get his voice working. "We had gotten Marian away and while we were retreating…." _She saved my life,_ he thought _._ "She was injured. We split up once outside the city, as far as I know everyone else made it out." 

"Some of the lads stayed back, covering our tracks," John added, reassuring some of the worried people surrounding them. John looked at Robin, raising his eyebrows to prompt their leader to say something. Robin closed his eyes, trying to get past the fear in his gut and the image of Marian sinking to the ground in front of him out of his head. 

"We need to set up sentries, in case there was any pursuit," he said, forcing himself to think through what they needed to do. He saw relief flicker across his John's face and Robin felt a twinge of guilt that he had caused this concern. "I need volunteers." 

Hands were raised and John started picking them out, giving them their placements throughout Sherwood so as to protect their campsite. Robin turned and stared at the closed tent behind him but he felt John grab his arm. "We need to figure out what to do next," he murmured. Robin nodded, dragging his attention away. 

"All right," Robin said. "You have your assignments. Those who are not on sentry duty, keep gathering supplies and food." 

The people started to disperse, some casting concerned glances Robin's way. Hannah and Jenny pushed their way through to stand in front of Robin and John. "What happened?" Jenny demanded. "How serious is it?" 

"It's bad," John answered. Robin looked at him and John shrugged, the sorrow clear on his face. "She was stabbed in the stomach, and with all her other injuries…" 

"Her other injuries?" Hannah asked quietly. Genevieve's face peeked out behind her mother's legs. 

"They weren't kind to her," Robin said. He didn't want to say too much in front the little girl. 

"Mama, is Marian all right?" Gen looked up, her eyes wide with worry and fear. No one said anything, each of them realizing the chances of her surviving were low. 

The entrance to Lucy's tent opened and the five of them turned. Robin felt like he was going to be sick with the possibility of what Lucy might say. The woman saw the group gathered in front of her and walked over, wiping her hands on a rag. 

"I've done all I can," Lucy said. "She's asleep now and all we can do is wait." 

"Do you think…?" Hannah asked, glancing between her friends, looking for reassurance. 

"I don't know," Lucy said. "We will keep her as comfortable as we can, but it's mostly up to her now." 

"Can we see her?" Jenny asked. 

Lucy nodded. "In fact it would be better if there was at least one of us with her at all times, to keep an eye on her," she said. 

"I'll take the first watch," Robin said, but John was shaking his head. 

"We can't Rob, we need to make sure everyone is getting back safely and that the perimeter is secure," he said. 

Robin clenched his fists. He knew his friend was right, but how could he just leave when Marian might…when Marian was like this. 

"We will watch over her," Hannah said, giving him a knowing look. 

Robin nodded his thanks as she led Gen into the tent to go sit with Marian. He turned his back and refused to look over his shoulder as he and John went into the forest to check the security points. 

*RMRMRMRMRMR* 

They had almost completed the rounds, and most of the men who had accompanied them on their tragic rescue had been accounted for. But when they reached the last security post, the one closest to the road from Nottingham, Robin and John came upon a hushed and intense conversation. 

"What's going on?" Robin asked, interrupting them. The two men turned around. One of them looked uncomfortable and the other looked frustrated. 

"It's nothing sir," the frustrated one said, glancing meaningfully at the other. 

Robin frowned, and looked at the other. "Whatever it is, even if you think it's nothing, you can tell me. We can't be too careful." 

"Well, Robin, I went back to our old campsite. Just to check and see if there was anything else we could salvage, mind," he justified. "But when I was there…I saw wolf tracks." 

Robin glanced at John and then back to the man who had spoken. "Say again?" 

"Well, I remembered when the wolf attacks were happening and you said to keep an eye out. But these were fresh and they were big. I—I know you said the wolf was gone but I figured there might be a pack and thought you should know." 

"I'm sure it's nothing sir, we shouldn't bother you with trivial animal tracks," the first one said quickly. 

Robin forced a smile to his face and clapped the men on the shoulders, trying his hardest not to show the dread he felt, and the anger. "Thank you, you were right to tell us," he said. "Keep up the good work." 

The guards nodded and the one who had reported the tracks looked relieved. Robin turned around but before he could get far he felt Little John's hand clamp down firmly on his shoulder. 

"I don't like that look on your face," he rumbled. 

Robin shook of the restraining hand, glaring at the ground. He knew, he didn't know how, but he knew what those wolf tracks belonged to. "One more thing," he told John. "It's just one more thing that's trying to kill her." 

"Lad," John said gently. "You don't know—" 

"I do know!" Robin interrupted. "And since I can't do anything about…about what's happened, well, I can do something about this." 

"You're just going to leave?" John asked. 

"Someone has to stop it," Robin told him, still keeping his voice low. "You and I are the only ones that now what it is, and I need someone here I can trust completely." 

"I'll go after it," the big man said but Robin shook his head. How could he explain to his friend that he needed to _do_ something, he couldn't just sit here and wait. 

"No. Please, John, I need to go after it." 

Little John looked at him. "What if something happens? Maybe you should wait or...say goodbye first?," he asked softly. 

Robin closed his eyes against when John implied. "No. She'll live. She has too. I'll be back soon." He turned his back on the guards and on Little John, setting off at a jog through the forest. He would only make a quick stop for supplies and his bow and then he would begin the hunt. 

*RMRMRMRMRMR* 

He had been tracking the _valkan_ for three days. Robin found the tracks his scout spotted in the campsite, circling the area where Marian had always pitched her tent. It was difficult to ignore the abandoned tents, cold fire pits, and litter strewn over the ground of their abandoned home. But he passed through the camp steely eyed, focused on his target. 

Robin had seen the thing fight and he knew it was going to be dangerous, going against the _valkan_ alone. But he just couldn't let it roam free, not when it was trying to kill Marian. What he really wanted, what he wouldn't admit to himself, was to kill the Sheriff. He wanted to make her better and kill the man who had hurt her, but he couldn't. Hunting the _valkan_ was as close as he was going to get. 

By now, the light was so dim he couldn't make out any of the signs that would indicate the _valkan_ had passed this way. Frustrated, Robin began to make camp. He knew it was useless to keep going when he couldn't see, but every day he failed at finding the creature chaffed at him. But there was nothing to be done, so Robin tucked his cloak around him, settled down next to the trunk of a tree, and fished out some dried meat and hard biscuits for supper. He couldn't risk a fire being seen so he had to settle for cold food. 

Robin leaned his head back, the bark digging into his skull even through the fabric of his hood. He wondered what was going on back at camp, if his absence was being handled. "John's got it covered," he murmured to himself. Then he felt foolish for talking out loud and closed his eyes firmly, determined to quiet his thoughts so he could sleep. 

It was easier said than done. His mind was abuzz with a million different things, none of which he could single out and focus on. He was just getting to the point where he could ignore the hum of all those thoughts when a scream pierced the air. 

Robin was on his feet in a flash, before he registered what he had heard. He stood on the balls of his feet, listening. He heard a snarl and then another angry shout. He realized the first scream had been one of pain and fear. The second one was a primal yell of self-defense. 

He raced through the trees towards the sound, certain that the snarl had come from the _valkan_. When he got nearer he could hear the shuffling of bodies moving through the underbrush and another, very human, yell. 

"Come on, then! Let's get this over with," a man shouted. Robin could hear the steel in his voice. It was the tone of someone readying himself for a fight to the death. He slowed and crept closer to the fight, approaching from downwind of the conflict. In the moonlight that filtered through the leaves he could make out a large hulking shape, pacing and growling before a much smaller silhouette. There was a glint of light and Robin saw that whoever it was, was holding a sword out in front of him. 

He couldn't believe his luck. He had found the _valkan_ and it was distracted. From watching the fight between Marian and the other one of these creatures, Robin knew they were formidable foes. To catch one off-guard was a rare opportunity. Taking a deep breath to slow his racing heart, Robin notched an arrow to his bow and drew back. He took another breath to sight his target, difficult in the dark, and then let the arrow fly. 

It sliced through the air with an almost silent hum and then hit it's target with a dull smack. The _valkan_ yelped and then turned in Robin's direction with an angry snarl. Its eyes glinted yellow in the night, two pinpoints of light in the dark. "I see you, human," it called out. The man it had been battling just moments before took a step back in surprise. "You've just made your last mistake." 

Robin simply responded with another arrow. The creature's form jerked as he hit his mark once again, but it didn't go down. He crouched, scurrying to another vantage point to shoot again, but he saw the _valkan_ tracking his movements. He saw it tense, about to leap into the air, when the man with the sword yelled and swung the blade. The _valkan_ howled and then swept out an arm, knocking the man back several feet into one of the trees. Robin took that moment to shoot two more arrows. 

When the howl was cut off with a wet gurgle Robin knew it wasn't long before the creature would be dead dead. Robin moved closer. The _valkan_ was on the ground breathing heavily. It bared its teeth at Robin, who noticed the sword hilt sticking out of its side. Blood covered its furred body and dripped through its pointed teeth. Arrow shafts stuck out of its fur like needles. There looked to be old blood mixed with new and somewhere in the back of his mind Robin realized it must have been wounded earlier but he had no idea by whom. 

"You're…no Ranger," it gurgled at him. "But you smell of one." 

Robin knelt down on one knee, out of reach in case it had a last minute surge of strength. His eyes were cold. "You will never get to her," he snapped. "None of you will. I'll make sure of it." 

It laughed, a disturbing wet sound. "It won't matter soon," it taunted. "She'll be all that's left. Then we will all come. Tell the little bitch…Will Treaty is dead. She's next." 

Robin felt a chill. Marian's home might be in more danger than they realized and if what the thing said about her mentor were true…it would crush her. Robin looked down at the creature. He could have killed it then, put it out of its misery, but he was too angry and too cold inside. Robin watched as the would-be assassin bled out in front of him, the life leaving those strange, animal eyes. The threat was gone, but he didn't feel any better. 

A groan from the man by the tree startled Robin to alertness. He left the body and went over to the injured man. "Don't worry," he said, trying not to scare the man any more than he had been. "It's going to be all right…" 

Robin stopped dead as a shaft of moonlight illuminated the man's face. The man looked up at him, recognition settling in, and laughed humorlessly. "This wasn't quite what I'd planned," he said drily. 

Heat surged through Robin's veins, and before he knew it, he had a knife at the man's throat. "What are you doing here?" he snarled. "Where are your men?" 

Sir Guy raised his hands slowly in a sign of surrender. "Easy. I was looking for you. Alone," he emphasized. 

Robin was surprised his hand remained so steady as it held the knife. "And I'm just supposed to believe that?" 

Sir Guy rolled his eyes, but he was careful not to move his head at all. "Don't you think any men I would have had with me would have helped fight off that…thing?" 

Robin clenched his jaw. He had to admit, Guy had a point. But he didn't have to like it. "What do you want?" he asked. Guy glanced down at the blade. 

"Put that away and I'll tell you. I came to talk, all right?" 

Robin looked at Guy's face warily. He didn't trust him in the least. But he was also curious has to why the man would be out in Sherwood at this time of night, by himself. Slowly he put the knife away and stood up. Guy visibly relaxed once the threat was removed but glared when Robin notched an arrow to his bow instead. 

"Is that necessary?" he snapped. 

"It's pointed at the ground," Robin said. "Now say what you want and maybe I won't shoot you." 

Guy looked at the bow a bit longer before pushing himself to his feet. He cradled his arm to his chest and winced at the movement but Robin remained unsympathetic. 

"Prince John wants to kill the King," Guy said. "The Sheriff is the one who will see it through." 

Robin stared at him blankly. Hearing his suspicions confirmed from a member of the Sheriff's inner circle sent a chill down his spine. But he wasn't going to let Guy see that. "That's it?" he asked. "We figured that out a while ago. You'll need to come up with something better." 

Guy narrowed his eyes. "What you don't know is that the Sheriff has found when and where the King will land on his return." 

That was a surprise to Robin. "What?" he asked quietly. Guy gave a little half-smile at the outlaw's surprise. 

"The King is sailing from France during the second week of March. I've marked the area on the coast where he is supposed to land," Guy handed Robin a rolled up piece of parchment. "King Richard is on his way home now. I don't know how the Sheriff or Prince John found out, but they did. They are hiring mercenaries to infiltrate the retinue receiving the King and stage an attack. They'll try to either kill him when he lands, or later on." 

Robin's mouth was suddenly dry. "It—it will never work. The King is too well-guarded." 

Guy shook his head. "No. He's landing separately from the rest of the army with only a few guards. Trusted soldiers were supposed to receive him, but I think the Prince is planning to replace them," he shrugged. "They've been planning this since King Richard left." 

Robin narrowed his eyes at the Sheriff's right hand man. "Why should I believe you? Why tell me, of all people, this information? If it's even true." He could've sworn Guy looked uncomfortable almost…repentant. But that was impossible. 

"You should believe me because I saved your life. And hers." Both of them knew who he was talking about, but mention of Marian flared the anger inside him. 

"You didn't save her life!" he shouted. "She could still die!" Silence descended and Robin realized with a shock this was the first time he admitted it to himself. 

Guy frowned. "No," he said softly to himself. Then he looked at Robin. "No, I stopped that soldier. He had stabbed her, he was going to kill both of you, and I stopped him." 

Robin thought back to when Marian was injured and dimly remembered someone turning away from the fallen soldier at her feet. But it was hard to recall, since he was too focused on stopping the blood that flowed from her wound. "Well, you might have been too late," he said, his voice thick. 

Guy closed his eyes. "I don't serve the Sheriff because I enjoy it," he said. "She said something to me once…" he shook his head. "It doesn't matter now. I'm going back there and don't think this means I'm on your side. But I don't want to be a part of regicide. If anyone can stop him, and I can't believe I'm saying this, it's you." 

Guy started to walk slowly around Robin, keeping his eye on the weapon while he moved closer to the fallen _valkan_. Surprisingly, Robin didn't stop him. Guy gripped his sword and braced his foot against the body, pulling out the blade with a bit of effort. He grimaced and wiped the sword clean on the grass before sheathing it, giving the creature a last disgusted glance. Then he nodded at Robin. "I gave you this information, but after tonight you and I are on opposite sides again." 

"Good," Robin's voice was brittle. That was the thanks he got for saving his miserable life? "Cooperation was making me uncomfortable anyway." 

Guy snorted. "I still don't like you Hood," he said. Then his voice thawed just a little. "But I hope she lives." Then he turned around and walked away into the shadowy trees, disappearing from Robin's view. 


	17. Choices

She was drifting. The cool, colorless sea rocked her gently back and forth. Here there were no worries, no pain. She couldn't remember why, but she was relieved there was no pain. Here, she could rest. Whatever she lay on was as soft as the softest feather bed. _Maybe it is a feather bed_ , she thought distantly. Whatever it was, she was comfortable. She kept her eyes closed and enjoyed the gentle motion of the vessel beneath her. She was comfortable, and willing to simply lie here and let herself float along the water. 

_"Marian"_

Her eyes flew open. She could've sworn there had been a voice on the wind, but she didn't catch what it said. She listened hard but there was no sign now of any voice. Slowly, she pushed herself up and looked around. Nothing. Nothing but an infinite expanse of gentle swells on a grey sea under a grey sky. 

She let herself relax, dismissing the noise as a figment of her imagination. She scanned the horizon with only a mild curiosity and the plainness of it made her tired again. She didn't feel any urgency or alarm and even the fact that she couldn't remember anything—not even her name—caused her any worry. 

_"Start calling me Will"_

There! She sat up straighter and looked, knowing for certain she heard something this time. But there was still no one around. She shook her head, wondering if she might be going crazy. Briefly she heard singing, a child's lullaby, and something inside her recognized the voice. But it disappeared as quickly as all the other voices and then there was nothing once again. Just as she was starting to close her eyes, thinking the strangeness done, another voice, a bit louder this time, reached her ears. 

_"Welcome to Sherwood"_

She was starting to feel a bit irritated. The voices, whatever they were, kept bringing her out of her rest. She stood up, her balance unaltered even with the waves. "What do you want?" she yelled to the empty air. She thought she heard murmuring around her, but there was nothing distinct and no one answered. She sighed, feeling slightly foolish. Shouting wasn't going to change the empty surroundings. She canned the ocean again, not expecting anything new. But then straight ahead she noticed a faint glow and a hazy, indistinct shoreline. She knew, somehow, that if she let the raft continue to drift, it would take her there. Once there she would be happy and free. She would be at peace. The longer she gazed at the distant shore, the more she yearned for that peace. 

She almost sat down and let the raft take her to the far away haven until another voice swirled around her, and this time she heard what it said. 

_"Hold on"_

She whirled around and behind her was a rope ladder, hanging only a few inches above her raft. She looked up, wondering where the ladder led but it reached so high into the grey sky she couldn't see the end. 

_"Hold on"_

Without thinking she grabbed the first rung and pulled herself onto the ladder. After climbing a few feet, she looked down. The raft was still there, waiting. It would wait until she made it to the top or came back down. Even if she fell, it wouldn't hurt her, it would welcome her back and take her to the shore. 

_"Come on lass"_

The voices—memories?—urged her onward and hand over hand she climbed. It was slow going and the higher she climbed the heavier she felt. The ladder swayed more violently with every step and it was a shock when she felt a twinge of pain deep in her stomach. She had forgotten what pain felt like and briefly wished to go back down to the raft. But she kept going and inch by inch the grey sky turned to red and the pain engulfed her in a wave. It tore at her and the ladder jerked and whipped around as if tossed in a gale. Her hands started to slip. 

_Marian Harwood_

Her name. That was her name, she had to get back for…something. She looked upwards but still couldn't see any end to the climb. More names swirled through her mind, but it was hard to see them. Once she thought she could catch one that felt soft and brought with it the color of a summer sky, but it whisked away when her foot slipped from under her. She cried out, her muscles straining as she pulled herself back onto the ladder. 

She was so tired. It would be so easy to just let go. No more pain, no more uncertainty, no more heartache. It was hard to think about why she needed to climb; maybe it was for the best if she never found out. Marian laid her forehead on the rung in front of her, her arms and legs quivering from exhaustion. Then she felt something light and dry hit her head. Leaning back in surprise she watched as a yellowed oak leaf floated past her face and then continued its unhurried way down towards the grey ocean. 

"Will," she whispered. She realized her lips were dry and cracked, and her voice didn't come so easily as it had below. But at least she remembered another name, one of strength and comfort and home. Marian took a deep breath and hauled herself up another rung, watching as her hands became bruised and scarred the higher she climbed. Even thought it hurt, these hands became more familiar the more she remembered herself. 

The summer sky name came back to her bringing with it the memory of hidden apple treats and the ground rushing by. "Sky," she said through gritted teeth. They were coming more quickly now as she climbed through the red sky. Each name came with its own sensations, reminding her of the world she left behind, the world at the top of the ladder. 

"Halt, Alyss, Carey, James, Jenny, Hannah, Gen, Little John." 

Marian looked up, hoping, wondering how much further she had to go. It was agony now, she could feel every ache, every bruise, every wound as fresh as the day she got them. She gasped in relief when she saw the top of the ladder disappear into sunlight, and a form silhouetted by the brightness. The image was watery and blurred, but she knew who it was. He was there, stretching out his hand to her, bringing with him the thrill of competition, a gentle touch, and the feel of the deep, quiet forest. 

_Hold on_

"Robin," she whispered _._ Marian reached up, stretching and stretching, trying to grasp his hand. She could feel her grip on the ladder start to slip and she didn't think she would have the strength to pull herself up again. She knew if she fell this time it would be the last time, and she would have to say goodbye to the names she found. The ladder would disappear and she would make the journey to the distant shore. 

"Robin," she said again, pleading for him to stretch just a bit more. 

_Hold on_

Marian closed her eyes and, with one last burst of strength, pushed herself up, farther than she thought possible. With her eyes still closed she felt herself losing her balance and her grip on the ladder failed. One more moment and she would be falling. She hung suspended, ready to fall. Then fingertips brushed her outstretched hand and suddenly she was rising, rising through the red into the soft yellow of sunlight, holding his hand _._

*RMRMRMRMRMR* 

Awareness came to her slowly. Her body was stiff. When she blinked her eyes open they felt dry and crusty, like she had been asleep far longer than was normal. As she lay disoriented on the hard, rough ground thirst came upon her. She tried to swallow but her mouth was too dry and her tongue felt fuzzy. The roof of the tent she was in wavered slowly in a breeze, and sunlight peeked in through the gap between the tent and the ground. 

Marian breathed deeply, hoping the air would clear her head. But as soon as she did pain lanced through her stomach and she winced. Memory trickled back to her and she remembered her capture, the fighting, and her desperation. Then she remembered the knife. After that everything started to go fuzzy. 

Slowly, she turned her head. She half expected someone to be there. She wasn't quite sure why, it was just a feeling, but the tent was empty. Pushing back unreasonable disappointment, Marian tried to sit up. She only made it a couple inches off the mat before the pain was too much and she collapsed again, panting and sweating. Marian brushed her hand across her stomach, feeling the bandages there. She was getting up the nerve to try sitting up again when the tent flap burst open and Lucy bustled through. 

The woman stopped cold when she saw Marian awake. The two women blinked at each other for a long moment and Marian thought Lucy might actually faint. 

"Lord have mercy," Lucy breathed. Marian smiled softly, noticing the brightness of tears in the older woman's eyes. 

"Lucy, you weren't worried about me, now where you?" she teased. Then she winced at the sound of her own voice, thinking Lucy might just faint after all if that sound was any indication of how she was doing. 

Lucy cleared her throat and then walked to her side, gently pushing Marian back down on the mat and lifting up her shirt to check the bandages. "Not in the least," she said, though the tremble in her hands told Marian otherwise. "I knew a little rest was all you needed then you would be up and about in no time." 

Lucy touched the back of her hand against Marian's forehead and then cupped her cheek, a maternal gesture that Marian was unprepared for. "Welcome back, child," Lucy said solemnly. "There will be many happy faces in camp today." 

"Lucy, could I please go outside?" Marian pleaded. She needed to feel the fresh air, something to help root her body back in the world of the living. 

Lucy frowned and bit the inside of her cheek. "It's still cold, Marian, and you can barely walk." 

"I'll wear a blanket," she argued. Outside she heard a whinny and couldn't help the grin that spread across her face. "And Sky is worried about me." 

Lucy huffed. "She is that. Your pony has been standing outside my tent since Robin brought you back and she hasn't left. I've lost count of how many times I've tripped over her, coming and going." 

Marian raised her eyebrows. "Then it would be helpful for me to go outside, so she can get out of your way." 

Lucy narrowed her eyes, but with no sign of Marian backing down, sighed in defeat. "All right, just give me a moment." She left the tent, leaving Marian to her own devices. By the time she had managed to sit up with a great deal of effort and pain, Lucy came back with a blanket and some extra cloaks. When she saw Marian sitting up her eyebrows snapped into a frown. 

"Young lady, if you want to go outside you are going to listen to my every instruction and not push yourself. Starting with not sitting up until I, or someone else, is here to help you." 

"I can do it myself," Marian said, though her breathlessness gave away how much pain she was really in. But she didn't have much time to prove herself right before there was another visitor. Marian looked up when the entrance was pushed open once again and smiled at Little John, who was taking up all the space inside. Delight lit the big man's face as he took one of the cloaks from Lucy's arms, ignoring her indignant noises as he spilled all the rest on the ground in his haste. He came over and wrapped one around Marian's shoulders. 

Marian laughed at Lucy's muttering and then squeaked a little when suddenly she was lifted in the air. "Stop, I can walk, John," she said. 

He looked at her with so much innocence that Marian laughed. "Of course you can," he said but there was no indication that he was going to put her down. "But let an old man feel useful, will you?" 

She wanted to protest, but Lucy interrupted. "It's either this, or you don't go outside. You can try walking after you've healed a bit more." 

Marian was too tired to fight this particular battle. Besides, at least she was going outside. When she relaxed and settled back into John's comforting arms Lucy nodded definitively and started putting more blankets and cloaks around her. After she was properly insulated, John carried her outside with ease. Marian smiled, closing her eyes so she could feel the cool air and the sunlight better. She was set down on a log just outside the tent entrance. 

She heard a happy neigh and then Sky was nudging her face and snuffling, making sure she was okay. Marian laughed and opened her eyes, reaching up as far as she could to ruffle Sky's mane and pat her pony, reassuring her. "Easy there, you're going to knock me over," she laughed while the horse continued her ministrations. 

_You get into too much trouble when I'm not with you,_ Sky admonished still nudging Marian with her nose. 

"I'm happy to see you, too, girl," Marian whispered and then placed a kiss on Sky's muzzle. 

Someone shrieked her name and suddenly Marian was rocked backwards and her ribs were being crushed in a hug. She gasped in pain and gently tried to extricate herself from Gen's overjoyed welcome. "Gen, hello," she said, patting her back. Lucy knelt and pulled the little girl off of her. 

"She is still healing," Lucy scolded her softly. Gen quickly dropped her arms and looked at Marian in alarm. 

"Did I hurt you?" 

"No, no it's fine," Marian smiled. "I'll take another hug though, just be a little more gentle." Gen beamed and then wrapped her arms around Marian, this time barely touching her. Marian patted her head. 

"Marian!" She looked up as Will came running towards her, waving, with a group of people following him more slowly. Gen's call had alerted everyone else that she was finally awake. Hannah was standing behind her daughter and laughing, wiping away tears. Jenny came over and held Marian's hand, refusing to let go while Gen still stood within the circle of Marian's other arm. She greeted the others who came to say hello and started to realize how serious her wounds were, judging by the relief on everyone's faces. While she talked Marian tried to subtly look for a certain someone, but he was nowhere to be found. 

Unfortunately, it didn't take very long for her to tire. Once Lucy noticed the paleness of her face she shooed away the well-wishers, firmly stating that Marian still needed rest. Gradually the crowd dispersed. It took longer to convince Gen to leave, but Marian said she would ask Gen for a story of her own in a little bit if she could rest now. That seemed to convince the little girl, and soon it was just Marian, Lucy, and Little John. She patted Sky once more before John carried her back inside with Lucy following. 

Settling back onto the mat, she asked as nonchalantly as possible, "I didn't see Robin, is he here?" 

Marian noticed the slight pause in John's movements and the glance he shot at Lucy, but it was covered up quickly. "He had some business to take care of, back at the old camp." 

She nodded, doing her best to mask her disappointment. _Of course he's busy_ she scolded herself silently. _Life goes on_. 

John must have seen something in her face because he added, "As soon as he gets back and see's you're up and about he'll see you. He's been worried, you know." 

Marian nodded, trying to smile. "It's okay John, I know he's got plenty to worry about. Thanks." 

John frowned as her eyelids fluttered close and she fell back asleep. Her chest rose and fell gently and he tucked the blankets more firmly around her. It was a relief to know she was going to wake up again. "Ah, lass, if only you knew," he said softly. 

*RMRMRMRMRMR* 

Robin trudged back to the camp, hardly seeing the forest around him. He could imagine the parchment in his pack weighing him down and it certainly felt like he was carrying a heavy load. The news Guy had brought was dire, if he could believe the man. For the first time they had real hope things would get better, now that the King was returning, but that hope was in more danger than ever. What were they going to do? 

He wasn't so distracted on his walk that he missed the outposts though, and he whistled at the sentries as he passed below them letting them know who he was. Robin received an answering birdcall: all was well. When the camp was finally in sight, something about the atmosphere tugged him out of his planning. It was light, almost festive, a relief from the usual attitude that pervaded late winter when spring seemed a distant memory. 

Nobody had noticed his return yet, so he stopped and searched the area. People were moving about like normal, doing chores and everyday tasks needed to survive in the woods. Sky was at her regular place by Lucy's tent, her head lowered towards someone sitting… 

He couldn't believe it. There she was, just sitting there like nothing had happened. Her face, which he noticed was still a little pale and wan, was lit with laughter as Gen waved her arms animatedly through the air. His heart soared as he watched her, but his feet refused to move. If he moved maybe the image would break apart and reality would set in. 

Will was there too, and some of the other children of the camp. Their voices rose together in a tangle and Marian listened to all of them, speaking quietly. Then Sky lifted her head and looked in his direction. Marian, attuned to her pony's movements, looked up a moment after Sky did and then met his eyes. A smile spread across her face and suddenly his feet were carrying him to where she was sitting. 

The other children turned around and Will stood excitedly. "Robin! Marian's awake!" 

"I can see that," he said when he got there. He looked at her for a moment and, not knowing what else to say, grinned. "It's good to see you up." 

Marian grimaced. "It would be better if I could make it ten feet outside this tent." 

Robin laughed; he should have known she wouldn't take it easy when she finally woke up. "It's understandable," he argued. "You, um, gave us quite a scare there for a bit." 

"Well, I've got to keep you on your toes," she joked. She looked at him searchingly for a moment before asking, "Is everything all right? I noticed you were gone when I woke up." 

His delight suddenly faltered as she remembered the _valkan's_ words: _Will Treaty is dead._ If he told her what he had been hunting, what the _valkan_ had said, she would be crushed. He knew she would blame herself, and she would worry about putting them in danger. Besides, it might not even be true. He couldn't tell her something like that without knowing for sure, not when she was barely on the mend. No, he would just have to wait for the right moment. He couldn't tell her, not yet. 

He waved a hand, affecting an air of unconcern and pushing away the twinge of guilt. "Everything's fine, I was just scouting. I wanted to make sure we recovered everything we could from the old campsite." 

Marian tilted her head, staring at him, but he quickly changed the subject. "Will, could you start gathering everyone up? Tell them to come here. The rest of you, bring some wood so we can build a fire. That way Marian doesn't have to move. I came across some information everyone needs to hear." 

Marian patted Gen on the shoulder and whispered something in her ear. The little girl nodded and then took off at a run. "I sent her to go get Hannah," Marian explained. "Whatever it is must be serious," she said to Robin. The others had left so it was just the two of them and Sky. Robin nodded somberly. 

"The King is returning." Marian's eyes widened as he continued, "and Prince John is going to try to kill him." 

*RMRMRMRMRMR* 

The group was quiet. Robin's news had been met with only a few outbursts, but it was big enough that most of the band needed some time to take it all in. People looked at each other in varying degrees of shock or disbelief. Little John was shaking his head. "You know this how, exactly?" 

Robin sighed. He was standing in front of them, his back to the tent's entrance. "Look, after I tell you try not to get too upset. Just know that I'm not completely trusting my source, I'm going to try and confirm it first." 

"Stop dithering Robin," Lucy said. 

He ran his hand through his hair, knowing how they would react no matter what he said. "It was Sir Guy. I ran in to him while I was scouting the old campsite. It seems he was looking for me." 

There was a pause before Little John started laughing. Everyone else looked at Robin like he was crazy, except for Marian who just looked thoughtful—skeptical, but thoughtful. "Well now we know it isn't true," John said. "How can you trust _him_ to be truthful about the Sheriff's plans?" 

Robin glanced at Marian. "He said he saved my life, and yours." 

Marian frowned, thinking back. Then realization dawned. "There was a man, I couldn't see his face. After I had been stabbed, the soldier was going to kill me, and then kill you, but someone knocked him down. Then he disappeared back into the crowd. But I don't know who it was, for sure." 

"Look, I said I was going to try and check it out first," Robin said. "But there was something about him when he told me. As strange as it sounds, he seemed sincere." 

"Come on, Rob. He's lying. It's either a trick or a trap," Little John said. 

"But what if it is true," Marian argued. She looked at the people gathered around and was a little relieved when she saw Friar Tuck nodding in agreement. "I mean, we heard the rumors even before Sir Guy told Robin. We were going to check it out before…before everything happened. Frankly, it just confirms them and gives us a date of his return. If there is even the slightest chance he is telling the truth we have to act on it." 

"But there is a better chance it's a trap," John said. 

"We'll take precautions," Robin answered. "But I agree. This is too big not to act." 

Jenny sat next to Marian. She had brought some mending over, not knowing how long the meeting was going to take, and she stitched while she spoke. "If it is true," she said, "how are you going to convince the King? Even if you tell him, you'll need proof to convict the Sheriff. And finding proof to convict the prince too is going to be even more difficult." 

Robin nodded. "Exactly. Add that to trying to figure out if Guy is telling the truth to begin with, well, it seems we are going to be busy." 

"Wait," Marian said, thinking over what they had just heard. "Who would be the heir, if not Prince John? Couldn't we go to him?" 

There was an uncomfortable silence as no one was willing to answer. Then Robin shook his head and said softly, "He did have an heir, he had a son." 

"A son?" she asked incredulously. "How come I've never heard about him?" 

"The King's wife died in childbirth," Lucy answered quickly. "But the boy was still weak as a child. He took sick when he was little and they kept him in his room, to nurse him back to health. He never came back out." 

The implications of that statement settled on Marian's shoulders and she looked down, saddened by the thought of a young life lost, even if she never knew the boy. "So the only chance we have is to convince the King himself," she said. 

"How long do we have before the King is supposed to land?" Lucy asked. 

"A month," Robin said. 

John whistled and Marian shifted. "That really doesn't give us a lot of time," she said. "We'll need to split up the tasks. Some of us to find proof of the treachery and the rest of us to warn the king and plan for a trap." 

"King Richard knew my parents," Robin murmured. Then he nodded and looked at the rest of the group. "He'll listen to me." 

"I can work on finding proof," Marian said. "With time I can get in to Nottingham by night, even without a disguise." 

Robin looked at her with barely hidden surprise. "Marian, you've just woken up! You're barely healed…" 

"But I will heal eventually," she interrupted. "You need every hand you've got, and I've trained for this. Don't worry, I won't go scaling walls right away," she told him with a smile. 

He ran a hand through his hair. There was no way he was going to stop her. "At least wait a few days," he said wryly. "John, I need you with me. We need to scout the area where Guy said the King would land. Marian, while you're looking for proof see if you can find out how he's planning to kill the king, and how many men he's planning to use." 

Marian raised an eyebrow, "yes, sir," she drawled. 

"I want to help," Jenny spoke up, stabbing her needle through the cloth. "I don't want to sit in camp anymore. They killed Alan, they almost killed you, Marian." Her eyes glittered with anger. "I want to help." 

Silence reigned until Marian placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. "You'll be with me." 

Jenny stopped sewing and placed her own hand over Marian's, staring at the fabric in her lap. 

Robin looked at the people surrounding him, almost all of the adults in the camp. These were the people who had stuck with him, who had lived hard, mean lives in Sherwood for the chance to be free and to fight the corruption in England. It was all coming down to this. The waiting was over. Now they had to act. 

"All right," he straightened his shoulders. "Is everyone clear?" 

Heads nodded and he felt a swell of pride at their determination. Then he smiled, a smile that promised trouble for anyone who dared to stand in their way. "We've got work to do." 


	18. Scattered Pieces

Jeren drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, staring at the kneeling man in front of him. "Let me make sure I have this right," he said slowly. "You had Sir Horace and Will Treaty, _Will Treaty_ , trapped and surrounded…and you let them escape?" he hissed the last words, unable to keep his temper in check. 

The man licked his lips. He started to look at Jeren but couldn't quite meet his eyes, so instead he stared at his boots. "Sir, milord, we had them, we did, but the Ranger got around us and then your creature showed up—" 

"FOOL!" Jeren screamed, rising to his feet. The man in front of him flinched and tried to cower, while at the same time maintain what dignity he had left. He wasn't doing a very good job. "My assassin had his own task. It was up to _you_ and _your_ men to keep any of Duncan's people from discovering us at the tower!" He grabbed the man by his throat and forced him to his feet, making sure he could look him in the eye. "You had the chance to rid us of two of Araluen's most formidable weapons." The soldier, who was actually more like a mercenary, clawed at Jeren's hands, his eyes fearful. He tried to choke out some words but they came out as only a gurgle. Disgusted, Jeren let him go and the man collapsed, sucking in air. 

"Now because of you they still live and Duncan most likely knows we have people behind him!" Jeren stared down at the man for a breathless moment and then with a yell, kicked him in the side as hard as he could. He kicked and kicked and kicked until his leg was weak and his rage was spent. 

When he was finished, the man before him was sprawled on the ground, groaning. Jeren was panting, his energy expended. Then he signaled one of his _valkan_. "Take him." The creature grabbed the man's arm and started hauling him away amidst his begging and pleading. Jeren stood, watching them go thinking about who might be able to fill the sudden vacancy. His advisors stood around him, outside the command tent where they had been discussing plans for the final assault. That's when the messenger from the mercenary troops at the tower arrived and ruined everything. Jeren silently dared them to say something but each man remained steadfastly quiet. And if a few were a little pale nobody cared to mention it. 

Jeren took a deep breath and ran his sweaty hands through his hair. It was now longer than he liked, but he didn't have time to keep it looking neat. Besides, he entertained the thought that his wild red hair made him look tough and dangerous. Certainly no one told him otherwise. 

"What are our options now?" he asked his advisors. 

"My lord, Will Treaty was injured badly. We don't know if he even survived…" 

Jeren laughed, loud and hollow. "Have you even heard the stories? That man has more lives than I can count. It's better to assume he lived, until we have it confirmed. Then we aren't surprised." 

Another licked his lips, looking warily at the spot where the messenger had been. "We should retreat. Even if Treaty is dead, the knight with him survived. It's almost certain the King knows of our troops in the area. It's best to pull back and wait." 

Jeren narrowed his eyes. He knew the men around him weren't here out of any sense of loyalty. Many were here because they had no place in Duncan's Araluen, and this was their last chance to be something. He didn't trust them. "We don't have time to wait," Jeren said. He wasn't about to mention exactly why they couldn't. They didn't need to know the extent of his plans. It was enough for them to know about the immediate situation and that was all. 

"Move up the attack," one of the mercenary captains said. "If the Ranger or Knight already know where we're at then it won't matter. We've still got the advantageous position. Hit them now, while they're injured." 

Jeren nodded slowly, turning the idea over in his mind. Perhaps it was time they made the final move. From the message he had received from his associate it looked like the other plans were starting to fall into place. It was time he completed his own task. "How many _valkan_ packs are still in commission?" he asked. 

"Two," one of the men answered. 

Jeren paused, cursing silently. "That's it?" No one met his eyes or tried to answer but he just couldn't find the anger any more today. "Fine," he snapped. "Send the alphas to me, I have an idea for them. While they complete their task, our men by the tower will be moving from the rear. Once they reach Duncan's army the rest of us will attack from the front. Then it will be over." The men bowed, some more sincere than others, and dispersed. One of the minor advisors walked in the direction of the _valkan_ dens and he knew his assassins would be here soon. Jeren felt unburdened, for the first time in a long time. This was it. Finally he would make the move he had been planning for years. The Araluens would be crushed without a warning and everything would be his. He would get the recognition he deserved. Jeren smiled. He was looking forward to this. 

*RMRMRMRMR* 

Will lowered himself slowly onto the folding chair, wincing at the stiffness and pain in his leg. He still couldn't bend it all the way and it made walking difficult. He glared at the crutch the field doctors had made for him, resting it against his thigh. He wanted to be rid of it. 

"How are you doing, Will? You know we don't have to do this right now," Gilan said him. The Ranger Commandant was sitting across from him, looking on with concern. A few days ago, Will and Horace had made a rather spectacular return to camp and pretty soon everyone knew about his encounter with the _valkan_. Most assumed it had happened during a mission. Only a very few knew the true circumstances behind the injury. That was why he was here in front of Gilan, after all. Once Will woke up, he had realized a meeting like this was bound to happen. He just had to wait and recover enough so he could get out of bed. The wondering was worse than just getting whatever he had coming over with. 

Will shook his head. "I'm fine. I can walk, and I'd rather face this now." 

Gilan's face looked haggard as he nodded and leaned back in his own chair. Will knew Horace, and probably Halt, were waiting outside the Ranger's tent but other than that the two men inside were alone. 

Gilan cleared his throat. "Will, you know I wish I didn't have to do this," he said. Will nodded silently. Of course he did. They were friends, and if he was in Gilan's shoes he would feel just as awful as he did now. "But as the Commandant, I have to deal with your actions." 

"You deliberately and flagrantly disobeyed a direct order," Gilan continued, looking levelly at Will. "You broke your oath to serve this country and your commanding officer." There was silence for a moment before Gilan sighed in exasperation. "Well? Is there anything you want to say?" 

Will's fingers tightened around the crutch ever so slightly. "Nothing, sir." He had to give Gilan the distance they both needed right now. "I admit to my actions and I committed them knowingly and with full understanding of the consequences for disobeying an order. I accept responsibility for the choices I made which were made and executed completely on my own." 

Gilan smiled drily. "On your own, huh?" 

"Yes, sir." 

There was silence as Gilan closed his eyes. "Dammit, Will." There wasn't any heat behind the words. He simply sounded tired. "You realize you could be convicted of desertion for this, right? You left the field at a critical point in this fight, just when we needed you the most. You are an exemplary Ranger and you were going to destroy that for an apprentice you don't even know is still alive." 

Will's eyes flashed. "I was going to help her," he said. "No one else would have done any different in the same situation, if their apprentice was in trouble." 

"That's the problem!" Gilan said, his voice rising. "Sometimes we have to think about the greater good. Marian has her task, and I hope more than anything that she is succeeding and she will return. But she has her duty and you have yours, here, in Araluen! And the thing about duty is that you can't abandon it just when it becomes difficult to do so." 

"And what about what Halt did, when I was kidnapped?" Will asked, matching Gilan's volume. "He did the same exact thing, he committed treason, just to get me back." 

"Yes, and he was banished for it!" Gilan said. "I was there. King Duncan took away his medallion and he couldn't return. Is that what you want?" 

"No," he replied quickly. "No. Gilan you know how much being a Ranger means to me. But if it meant keeping Marian alive, then what about my duty to her as her mentor?" He took a deep breath, trying to keep his heart from plummeting as he uttered the next words. "If banishment is my punishment than I accept. I simply ask that when the time comes I am allowed to go get her." 

Gilan waved his hand, like he was brushing a fly away from his face. "You're not being banished, Will. You did return and no one noticed you're absence. Plus you and Horace brought back valuable information." Will did his best not to react or look to hopeful while Gilan looked him over. "But you still need to be punished. You understand that?" 

Will nodded. "So," Gilan continued, "in light of all the circumstances, I'm going to suspend you from field work for three months, effective once Jeren is defeated and you have returned to Araluen with Marian. You'll be at Castle Araluen during your suspension, where I can keep an eye on you." 

Will didn't realize he had been holding his breath, but it exploded out of him when he heard his sentence. He knew it could've been worse, and he still didn't like the idea of suspension, but he was fully prepared to accept the consequences. And Alyss certainly wouldn't mind him staying at the castle, she was there more and more often anyway when she wasn't on diplomatic missions. 

"There is one other thing," Gilan said slowly. Will became wary once more. He didn't like Gilan's tone. "While you are at the castle…I am reassigning Marian to another mentor." 

"What?" Will shot up straight. The only thing keeping him from getting to his feet was his injured leg. "Gilan, you can't!" 

"I absolutely can." Gilan's voice was hard. "You know she won't get the training she needs while you are suspended. Besides you won't be in your official capacity as a Ranger, which is necessary to have an apprentice." 

Will knew full well he was right, but he also knew there were not many Rangers who would be willing to properly teach Marian. The 'only female in the corps' issue was a serious one for a lot of people, as much as he hated to admit it about his comrades. 

"Who did you have in mind?" he asked stiffly. 

"I understand your concern Will. I've heard the talk, too." This time Gilan's voice softened. "Halt said he would take her on as a temporary apprentice, despite the fact he was getting too old for that sort of thing. That's what he claimed, at least. Personally, I think he would be happy to have another apprentice again and I know you three have worked closely together before."Gilan smiled, inviting Will to share the joke but Will couldn't bring himself to do it. 

If it wasn't him, he was glad Halt would take his place but he still didn't like the idea of reassigning her. He felt like he was letting her, and everyone else, down. "There has to be another way," he said. 

"It's only for those three months, Will," Gilan replied. "And people won't know the real reason she's not with you. I don't want rumors to spread and make it more difficult than it already is for you or Marian. But this is my decision." 

Will gripped his crutch and slowly pushed himself onto his feet. He looked at his commander and knew he wasn't going to be budged. This was something he was going to have to swallow, even though it tasted like bile in his mouth. He saluted. "Understood, sir." 

Gilan looked hurt but they both knew there was nothing to be done. "Like I said…" 

"I know," Will interrupted. "You didn't want to do this." 

He nodded. Then he opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it. 

"What is it?" Will asked. 

He could see Gilan's hesitation, and then the moment he decided to say whatever had come to mind. "Will, if I asked you to promise me you wouldn't do something like this again, what would you say?" 

The silence grew as Will thought about it. Could he really make that promise? 

"I would tell you not to ask me that," he finally answered. Then he bowed his head and left the tent. 

Horace pushed himself off the tent pole he was leaning on when Will came outside. The two of them walked together in silence for a few moments, Horace noticeably slowing so Will could keep up. Will could feel the glances his friend gave him, as well as most passers-by, but he didn't say anything until Halt materialized next to them out of the crowd. 

Horace couldn't stand it any longer. "How did it go? What happened?" 

"You know, I'd almost rather face the _valkan_ again," Will said drily. Horace look pained and Will felt a twinge of guilt. He patted his friend on the back. "I'm just joking," he said. "It could've been a lot worse." Will looked over at Halt, trying to read his face. But even after years of learning and knowing him, it was still difficult to tell what he was thinking sometimes, especially when Halt was trying to hide his thoughts as he was doing now. "I've been temporarily suspended." 

Horace frowned. "Until when?" 

Pain spasmed in his leg and he grimaced, pausing in the walk and gripping the crutch to keep his balance. He felt a hand on his shoulder and Will took a deep breath, looking gratefully at Halt. "I'm all right. I must have just stepped wrong." 

"We can stop and rest," Horace said. "No need to push it." 

Will started walking again and ignored the suggestion. If they could just make it back to the infirmary tent he would be fine. Then he could sit. But he wasn't going to stop now, even if it hurt so much he passed out when he finally made it to his bed. "I'm fine, it was just a twinge. I'm suspended for three months, once the fighting is over," he answered Horace's question. "Gilan's keeping me at the castle with him." 

Halt stayed silent and Will watched him when he added the rest of his punishment. "He's reassigning Marian, after I bring her home." 

His mentor's shoulders slumped just barely, as if he was hoping that particular punishment hadn't been discussed. "What?" Horace said indignantly. "They can't do that!" 

"I tried to talk him out of it, Will," Halt finally said. "But he told me if I didn't take her, he was going to reassign her to someone else. I wouldn't let that happen." 

"You knew?" Horace looked incredulous. 

Will shook his head. "I don't blame you, Halt. It's my own fault. I just wish it would have made a difference," he said bitterly. "Instead, I mess it up even more, I don't even know if she is alive, and now I don't even know if I'll walk normally again." 

There was an uncomfortable silence and he dared a glance at his friends. Horace looked shocked and even Halt looked concerned. "You know it's just going to take some time to heal," Horace said. "You were hurt pretty badly." 

"Not necessarily," Will answered softly. "The medic told me it's likely I'll have the limp the rest of my life. My suspension may be a bit more permanent if I can't walk right anymore. Maybe Marian really should have a different mentor when she gets home." 

They had finally made it to the infirmary's entrance, and all he wanted to do was lie down. He didn't like feeling this weak, and finally hearing what his punishment will be didn't help his mood at all. "I'll see you two later." He turned to go inside but Halt's voice stopped him. 

"Will." He turned to see Halt staring at him, looking serious. "You listen to me, because I'm not about to say all this again any time soon. You remember, too, because it's important. What you did, the information you and Horace brought back, was invaluable. Just because you didn't get through the gateway doesn't mean you failed. Marian knows you would do anything for her, just as we would do anything for you. Have faith in your apprentice. And you never let anything stop you from being the best Ranger you could before. I'm not about to sit by and watch a little limp stop you. Neither will Horace, Gilan, Cassandra, Marian, or Alyss. Even when this fight is over, Araluen will still need it's best Rangers and that includes you." 

The two young men stared at the grizzled Ranger in surprise. After a few moments of quiet Halt grunted. "What?" 

"I don't think I've ever heard you say so many words in one go before," Horace said. 

"Well, I have my moments," Halt grumbled. 

Horace answered with a lopsided grin. "I hate to admit it, but the old man is right." Halt started to protest but Horace ignored him. "We'll get through this Will, together. Now, go get some rest and heal up. You'll be traveling to bring your apprentice back in no time." He clapped Will on the shoulder and Halt nodded. He wasn't one for displays of affection but Will could read him perfectly this time. As his two friends turned away Will could only think how lucky he was to have their support. He thought of all his friends and family, scattered, doing their part to stop Jeren and bring peace back to Araluen. He wouldn't, he couldn't, let them down. 

*RMRMRMRMRMR* 

"Are you sure about this?" John muttered, his eyes trained on the castle's side entrance. He and Robin both sat on horses they had procured about a week ago, but it was clear John was not comfortable in the saddle. Marian smiled but kept looking at the door. Though it was growing dark Marian was confident they wouldn't miss who they were looking for. 

"Both Will and Jenny reported the messenger's arrival last night at midnight," Marian said. "If the King really is due to return in two weeks, the man won't waste his time here. Plus, he would have to leave tonight, because leaving during the day would attract too much attention considering how fast he has to go. And you know this is a chance we won't likely get again." 

John sighed and tugged at the cloth wrapped around his face, an accessory they were all wearing tonight. The black fabric covered everything except their eyes, making their appearance more sinister and unsavory than usual. Tonight, they really were the bandits the Sheriff was always trying to make them into. 

Marian leaned down from her seat on Sky and patted the pony's neck. The two of them were ready to ride at a moment's notice. For the fifteenth time that night, Marian checked that her striker was at her belt. It was her one chance to catch their target. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves so she wouldn't communicate them to Sky. She didn't have to worry though, Sky was trained just like she was and the pony stood patiently still waiting for the instant her master gave the signal. 

"Just be ready to follow," Marian said. 

"It'll be fine, John," Robin added from her left. The older man huffed but didn't say anything else as the stars slowly winked into existence and the moon rose. It was well into night before the castle door finally opened and a horse and rider trotted out of the gate. They were only a few feet away from the wall when the rider—the messenger—spurred the horse into a gallop. Marian waited a few more breaths. She didn't want their confrontation to happen in front of the castle walls for everyone to see. When the timing was right Marian touched her heels to Sky's side. 

The pony leapt forward with amazing speed, and Marian felt a grin of pure delight spread across her face. Despite the situation, and the danger that came with it, there was nothing better than riding Sky at full tilt across open terrain. The messenger didn't bother with the road and neither did they. Sky and Marian galloped across the open field and Marian squinted against the wind in her face. Ranger ponies could go long distances for longer amounts of time but they also had a speed she felt, personally, was unmatched by any other breed-in any world. 

They rode up and down the gentle hills and the watch lights from the towers of Nottingham Castle quickly disappeared. The moon hung bright and full in the sky, illuminating the fields before them. Marian almost whooped when she saw the silhouette of the messenger as he crested the hill just ahead. She was lucky he wasn't headed straight for Sherwood because it would have been too easy to loose him in the gloom of the trees. 

Marian urged Sky to a greater speed, conscious of the risk the darkness posed to them but also knowing they had to catch this messenger tonight. She felt Sky respond, amazed the pony could go any faster than she already was. But she did and soon they were catching up. She noticed their quarry slow for a moment, looking over his shoulder. His arms flailed, urging his own mount to go faster but Sky still gained. 

She let go of the reins, standing up slightly in the stirrups and keeping her balance even at their breakneck speed. Marian reached for her strikers, which she had attached together before the chase. She held the brass tube, calculating the diminishing distance and the force she was going to need. Sky pounded across the grass but Marian counted patiently. She would be within perfect range in five…four…three…two…one. 

Marian threw. The brass striker flew through the air, twisting end over end. There was the barest glint of moonlight on metal and then she heard a satisfying _thud_. The man on horseback cried out and toppled off his own mount, which kept running for a good couple of meters. Sky slid to a halt beside the downed target and Marian leapt off of her back in a practiced jump, ignoring the twinge of pain in her freshly healed ribs. The man groaned but she worked quickly, running to him and yanking his arms behind his back. Then she took out her thumb ties and tightened them on her prisoner. Marian pulled him up into a sitting position, noticing the swelling bump on the back of his head from her throw. 

"We're just going to sit here nice and quiet until my friends arrive," she patted his cheek. He still looked a little groggy from her hit, but he was aware enough to glare at her. Marian waited, rubbing Sky's neck absently. Her pony's heavy breaths were the only sounds she heard for a couple of long minutes. She was a little surprised her captive didn't say anything, or even try to escape. But she thought it may be because she threw her striker more forcefully than she first thought. 

It didn't take long until she heard the dull drum of hoof beats. "Here we go," she murmured. 

Robin and John approached them and dismounted when they got close. She couldn't tell for sure in the moonlight, but John looked a little shaky. "I don't know how you do that without breaking your neck," he said, out of breath. She noticed Robin eyeing her and she knew he was looking for any evidence of pain she might be feeling from her injuries. She gave him the barest wink to reassure him. 

Marian smiled at John, her eyes crinkling at the corners when she answered, "Practice. Shall we take a look at our prize?" Robin nodded and, when John took her place guarding the captive, she went over and coaxed the messenger's horse to her. She brought it back to their little group and started rifling through the bags while Robin searched their prisoner. 

It was too much to hope they would find the proof they needed. The only thing in this man's possession was a water flask, some dried jerky and hard biscuits, and a bag of coins. 

_Time to put on a show_ , she thought. She tossed the coins to Robin, who caught the bag one-handed. "Not much here," she said, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice. 

"He must be hiding something," John said. "Ask him." 

Robin drew a small dagger from his belt. Then he laid the cold point of the knife against the captive's throat. "Where's the rest of your money?" he asked. It was unsettling how cold his voice sounded. 

The bound messenger was silent and Robin pressed harder, until a blood beaded on his skin. "He's not going to answer," Marian said impatiently. "Just slice him and be done with it. We've been out in the open long enough anyway." She hoped their captive would say something, she knew they would never carry through on a death threat, but she had to make it convincing. 

"What's your name?" the captive finally spoke up, seemingly unperturbed by the knife at his throat. 

"What's it to you?" Robin sneered. 

"If it's money you want, I don't have any more on me. But I can help you get some. A lot more than what I bet you've got right now." 

"He's lying," John said gruffly. But Robin looked at their captive and hesitated. 

"What do you mean?" he asked. 

The messenger shifted, trying to ease the pressure Marian's ties were putting on his hands. He was an older man, blond and bearded. He had a scar that ran across his nose and the right side of his cheek, which indicated to Marian he wasn't a stranger to conflict. Despite being bound and dazed, he looked at the three of them calmly. 

"What you've got there is nothin' compared to what my boss has already got," the messenger said. "Plenty to go around, if you're good enough to be in the group. Seems to me you've got what it takes." 

John grabbed Robin's arm. "We got the goods, let's just go. We're doing fine on our own." 

The messenger laughed, "Not for long you won't." 

Marian pulled out her saxe knife and examined it, making sure the metal caught the meager light. "And what, pray tell, does that mean?" 

"I know sommat none of you know," he said. "The King's comin' back. An' when he does you won't be gettin' much of anything." 

Marian gasped and looked wide-eyed at John. Robin cursed. The messenger smirked and said, "but if you wanna stay free and be richer than you've ever been, I think an arrangement can be made. My boss has got a plan, one that will keep the royals off ya…permanently." 

"Don't listen to him," Marian said. "He's just trying to save his own skin. We're doing fine right here. If we stay low and stay small it won't matter if the King comes back." 

Robin took the knife away from the blond man's throat and slowly tapped the flat of the blade on his palm, thinking. "I don't want to stay small. I'm sick off all this running around and getting nothing but a handful of coins," Robin spat. Then he contemplated the captive. "You think you're boss will let us in on your little plan?" 

"You look like someone with skill," he said. "I think he could find somethin' for ya." 

"No way, kid," John said. "This sounds too dangerous." 

"If you want to be scraping by the rest of your life, be my guest," Robin said bitterly. "Looks to me like we've got an opportunity. Cut him loose," he ordered Marian. 

"But—" she protested. 

"Now!" 

She glowered but undid the ties. The messenger stood and rolled his neck and shoulders, working the kinks out. Then he stuck his hand out to Robin. "Pleasure doin' business mister…?" 

"Robert," Robin answered. "And you?" 

"Brutus," he shook Robin's hand. 

Robin looked Brutus straight in the eye and gripped the man's hand hard. "If you cross me, I'll slit your throat before you can say 'God save the King.'" 

Brutus smiled and pulled his hand away. "Aye, of course. Now shall we get on before we're discovered? Like the lady said, we've been out in the open too long." He swiped the reins out of Marian's hands, smirking at her. "Thanks for gettin' him back for me," he mocked. "It's much appreciated." 

Robin swung up onto his own horse and pocketed the moneybag. "Well?" he asked the two of them. 

"You go on and get yourself killed," John said. "It's no skin off my back." 

"I'm with him," Marian jerked a thumb at Little John. "I'm not messing with any royalty." 

Robin shrugged. "Suit yourselves. I'm not sitting around to wait for scraps and a hanging." 

Brutus saluted them and then kicked his mount into a gallop, Robin following close behind. It wasn't long until they were out of sight. Marian stood by Little John's side long after the two men had left. Their breath misted in the air which still retained the bite of winter at night even though the season edged towards spring. She hugged herself, doing her best to ignore any misgivings she had about this particular plan. 

"He'll be all right, lass," John said. "Once he's in, he'll have the best chance of warning the King before those traitorous bastards can get to him." 

"I know," she said. Marian pushed her worry away and then bent down, beginning to search for her fallen striker. John joined her after a moment, waiting. He knew there was something else on her mind. 

"It's just…it actually went smoothly." 

Little John chuckled, "It's about time something did. We planned this. We knew it was a long shot he would have evidence on him. We had to have an alternative plan in place." 

Marian laughed softly. "I guess you're right. I'm just not used to things going the way we planned them." 

John grinned as he found her weapon in the grass and handed it to her. "Perhaps luck is just going our way this time. Let's be thankful for it." 

She nodded and then mounted Sky, trying to hide her amusement as John approached his horse with a little more trepidation. Once they were both mounted, they nudged the horses forward, heading towards Sherwood at a much more sedate pace than before. Secretly she was glad for the change of pace. The ride had taken a bit more out of her than expected. She must not be as fully recovered as she would like, though she would never admit it out loud. 

"Besides," Little John said. "Tomorrow I will be travelling to the coast with some of the men to set up watch. He won't be completely alone. And you..." 

"I have my own task," Marian finished for him. But even with all the assurances, and the energy she knew she needed to spend focusing on her job, she couldn't completely squelch that niggling feeling in the back of her mind that something was bound to go wrong. 

"Speaking of your own task," John spoke up. 

She looked over and he raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Marian huffed, vexed with herself and with her job. She had known, logically, it was going to be difficult to find the proof they needed to convict the Sheriff before the KIng. But she could admit to herself that the difficulties she was facing were more frustrating than she had prepared herself for. 

"I'm working on it," she said. "I think—John, I think I'm going to need to get back into the castle." 

Marian waited in silence, expecting him to protest. She was mustering her arguments when she heard him sigh. "I was afraid you were going to say that." 

"So you agree, then?" 

"I'm not going to like it," he rumbled. "But you're right. We don't have any more time to wait for the messengers and search them. We were pushing our luck as it is, which you know." Marian nodded. That was why they planned for Robin to act like a common thief and ingratiate himself with the mercenaries, if this last search didn't pan out the way they wanted. "But how do you plan on doing that? You're wanted as much as the rest of us now, and with me and some of the lads leaving tomorrow…well…I worry. I shouldn't," he added with a wry grin, "but I do." 

Marian looked at him, startled. He reminded her of people from back home at this moment and she was suddenly struck with how much she was going to miss him when he went off to the coast to help Robin. "Don't worry about me," she said lightly. "I never get into trouble." 

John laughed as they finally entered the trees, the darkness thicker now that the ancient forest blocked the moonlight. While the two of them talked, it didn't go unnoticed that Marian never got around to answering John's original question, which was a good one. How on earth was she going to get into the castle unnoticed a second time? 


	19. No Place for Lions

Marian waited in the back of the tavern. She fiddled with the handle of a mug of ale she refused to drink, looking at the other customers from under her hood. Most of these customers were off-duty soldiers or men who lived in Nottingham and had no other place to go. Frankly, it was a surprise to her that so many were here during the middle of the day. 

She and a few others from the camp had slipped into the town yesterday, keeping a low profile. They had all come through the gate separately to not draw attention to themselves. It didn't take long until they were all spread out through Nottingham and, hopefully, her people outside the walls were already in their designated positions. 

It was the perfect opportunity to get what she needed. Two days after John and four of their men had left for the coast to meet up with Robin, Will brought word to Marian that the Sheriff was leaving Nottingham and bringing Sir Guy with him. Their young scout told them that the Sheriff, at the head of a contingent of well-armed soldiers, galloped out of the gates outfitted for a long journey. Will had no idea why the Sheriff was leaving, but what concerned Marian the most at this moment was that he wasn't in Nottingham castle. This meant the Sheriff's personal chambers and office were unoccupied and just waiting to be searched. 

Her attention was drawn to the front by a commotion at the door and a very disheveled Jenny burst into the tavern. Her eyes swept the room, bypassing Marian without any indication of recognition, and landed on a burly looking guard. 

"Oh thank goodness you're here!" she wailed at a decibel Maria was not used to hearing from her. "I just spotted Robin Hood! I saw him, on Harper's Row." Jenny clung to the guard's arm, leaning against him as if she might faint. As soon as she made her announcement the military men stood up, some of them so fast their chairs tipped backwards. The one Jenny had turned too shook her off and gestured for the others to follow him. 

"What about my reward!" Jenny trilled, the perfect image of a penny-pinching woman. She received no response, but she wasn't expecting to get any. Marian tried to hide her smile, but she kept her eye on the inn's other patrons in case any of them wanted to protect "Robin Hood" by harming the informant. There were going to be quite a few sightings in Nottingham today. Marian's friends would sow confusion in the city and the soldiers would be run ragged trying to search out the outlaw while she went to work. 

Eventually, if her plan went accordingly, all of her Robin Hoods would lead the soldiers back towards the gate. They would think he was going to rob the tollhouse, like he almost did the day she escaped from the town. Then the real show would begin. Marian made sure her people knew to leave the tollhouse alone, it was too dangerous and they couldn't afford anyone getting captured. Instead, Lucy had worked on developing certain incendiary powders that would keep attention focused outside the city walls. The bigger the spectacle the more chance one small shadow in places it wasn't supposed to be would go unnoticed. 

Jenny huffed and left the tavern. Once she left and went to the vegetable seller at the Market, Will would know it was his turn to be Robin Hood. She hoped he would stay safe. Marian hated putting the boy in danger, but he was the best look-alike they had. 

"What's he doing here?" she heard someone ask. "He's mad, I tell you." 

"The Sheriff's gone," his friend answered. "If something here is worth stealing, now's the time. God bless him, I say." 

Marian placed a coin on her table and slipped out. It was time to leave and make her way towards the castle walls. Jenny was her signal that the sun was going down. She needed to be at the castle walls, preferably inside them, by the time it got dark. The spectacle outside the town wouldn't hold the attention of the guards for very long, but she wanted every second she could get. _At least I'm not trying to take over the castle_ , she thought, remembering Will's account of his time at Castle Macindaw. _I've just got to sneak in and out, not too hard_. 

In her mind's eye, Marian brought up the inner layout of the castle, and her route up to the Sheriff's chambers. She knew there was a window in is office, and was pretty sure there was one in the bedroom. She just had to make sure she chose the right one. 

Marian stood outside the closed portcullis, absently massaging her fingers. They tended to get stiff nowadays and she needed to keep them flexible. Thanks to the Sheriff's departure and her look-alikes running around, the guards on the wall were scarce. Marian settled into the corner of what appeared to be some sort of public lodging house. She wrapped her cloak about her, looking almost like a beggar. She sat completely still, blending in with the stone and the shadows until she simply became part of the landscape. But though her body was as still as the building she leaned against, her eyes were active. Marian watched the guards patrol the wall, counting the seconds between movements and noting how long the shifts were. She waited to get the rhythm of their walks, tuning herself to timing. 

The sun continued to dip below the walls, casting long shadows and leaving the sky to darkness. She waited until the sun was gone and the sky in the west was only a lighter grey while everywhere else was black. Then she glided across the ground, sticking to the shadows and trusting her cloak. Marian steadily made her way around the castle walls until she was on the right side of the grounds. She looked up and waited, counting under her breath until the guards on the wall continued their measured walk past her position. 

Will always told her he had been a climber. He loved the heights and the challenge of finding footholds and handholds, the difficulty in getting to the highest point possible on the most challenging of surfaces. He taught that love to her, and in the early days of her training he would challenge her to small climbing competitions. She always suspected it was a way for him to have a little more fun, but she enjoyed it so she never called him out on it. 

She was glad for those competitions now as her fingers and toes searched for little spaces and cracks between the stones. Her muscles remembered what was needed, though her body was still a bit tender. It didn't take long for her arms to start quivering a bit and her fingers to ache. In the back of her mind she recited some choice words as she realized she needed to step up her recovery regimen. Marian knew she wasn't in top shape and couldn't take any more risks than necessary, so she made sure at least three of her four anchors were in place before she moved a hand or a foot up to the next spot. 

She was close to the top. She was stretching her hand up the wall, searching for a handhold but her fingers met nothing but smooth stone. She didn't have time climb down and find another path. Marian pushed herself up just a few more inches, digging in her toes. There! She could just reach a little pocket. But when she tried to steady her grip, her foot slipped. 

Marian's heart lurched as her foot met empty space and she scrabbled against the stone. Her shoulders cramped as she clung to the side, trying to keep herself from falling to the hard ground. Panic flooded her brain, making it impossible to do anything but frantically scrape her foot against the wall and hope to find a foothold again. When she finally found one she pressed her body to the wall, resting her head against the cool stone to calm her racing heart. Glancing up she noticed the crenellations at the top of the wall just a few feet above her, firelight from the sconces dancing across their surface. 

The stars sparkled even further above her and Marian realized the time for their final distraction was coming quickly. She waited a few more breaths before climbing once more and clearing the top of the wall, falling into a crouch once her feet hit stone. Marian looked left and right down the walkway. For the moment both guards had their backs to her as they walked across the wall in opposite directions. But her moment wouldn't last long and as soon as they turned to complete their circuit they would see her. 

Sacrificing stealth for speed, Marian sprinted right down the walkway, aiming for the stairs that would bring her to the castle grounds. Once she was on the ground she could hide again and make her way to the castle proper. By then, hopefully, her people would be in place and the guards would be too busy to notice her second climb of the night. Her boots were well worn and made hardly any sound on the solid stone. Second by second the stairway came closer, but it was one second too late. 

For some reason the guard turned early, perhaps alerted by a sixth sense that someone was behind him. Marian silently cursed when he discovered her but she didn't stop running. The man's eyes grew wide, completely taken by surprise. That surprise saved her. His moment of indecision gave Marian the opportunity she needed. 

As the guard opened his mouth to sound the alarm, Marian's fist shot out to jab him in the throat. He doubled over chocking, giving her a few more precious moments of silence. She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and then hauled him over the side of the wall, using his own weight against him. Marian didn't wait for him to land; she didn't want to think about it, not right now. She could deal with the consequences when her job was finished. She finished her run down the stairs before the other guard on the wall noticed someone had infiltrated. 

Marian finished her run down the stairs before the other guard and turned around, and hid in the shadows under the stairwell. She tried to slow her breathing, her blood pounding loudly in her ears. A minute ticked by while she listened for any shouts of alarm and then she heard a voice above her. 

"Conrad?" Silence answered the man's question and she waited, her muscles quivering with anticipation and anxiety. "Stupid blighter," Marian heard the other man mutter after a moment. "If he's caught drinking again he'll have latrine duty for a month." 

Relief came over her in a wave. She was still undiscovered. _I hope the guard isn't dead,_ she thought with some guilt while her eyes swept the courtyard. She just needed to get across the open space and up the wall. It was the open space that concerned her. Not many people were out except the men on the walls. If they turned back and saw her it would be all over. 

_Here goes nothing_ , she thought, pushing her cowl back and stepping out from underneath the stairs. If it didn't look like she was sneaking she might be able to fool others into thinking she belonged here. But Marian was only a few steps into the open courtyard when she heard shouting to her left. She froze, locking her muscles into place. The skin between her shoulder blades tingled, expecting a crossbow bolt at any moment. 

More voices began to rise and Marian risked a look over her left shoulder, where guards were running to gather on the wall. She saw some pointing and couldn't help the smile on her face. Lucy and the others had done their part. 

Quickly, so as to make the most of the time her people were giving her, Marian ran the rest of the way across the courtyard. When she reached the wall just below the Sheriff's window she put her cowl up once again and began another treacherous climb. This one was much shorter but seemed to take longer, since her muscles were already tired from the first climb. When she finally reached the room she realized the shutters were locked from the inside. Marian groaned in frustration and maneuvered so she was sitting on the window ledge facing the town. Her legs dangled over the small stone precipice that was just wide enough to accommodate her. She tensed her stomach muscles to keep her balance and pressed her legs against the ledge. Twisting and ignoring the sense of vertigo, Marian took out her knife and jammed it through the crack in the shutters. She wiggled the blade up until she felt it stick. Holding her breath Marian jerked the knife upward. There was a small _pinging_ sound and then the shutters creaked open. Grinning at her success, Marian turned and swung her legs inside the dark room. 

Everything was how she remembered it, but the clay shards had been swept up. She left the shutters open, taking the chance someone might notice for the extra light that would allow her to see. 

Marian looked around. She had to be quick, but thorough. She wanted to be out of the castle before their little "distraction" in the fields outside Nottingham finished burning. Hopefully the material Lucy had collected turned the flames pretty colors, that would keep the soldiers entertained even longer than usual. 

"All right," she muttered under her breath. "If I were super-secret incriminating documents, where would I hide?" 

Marian went to the desk first. She looked under papers and inside drawers. She tested the doors for false bottoms and ran her hands along the edges of the desk to look for hidden panels. She knocked on the sides of the desk and even the chair to listen for hollow spaces where evidence might be hidden. 

Nothing. There was nothing nefarious hidden in the Sheriff's desk. Pushing away frustration, Marian moved to the Sheriff's bedroom. The bed was neatly made and there was a small stand on the left side of the bed. There was a privy walled off in the left corner of the room and a wardrobe on the wall opposite the bed. She went to the nightstand first, subjecting it to the same vigorous tests she did on the desk. Marian looked under the bed and under the mattress and then, as much as it made her skin crawl, she looked through the wardrobe. The only thing she found were a few dust mites, shirts, pants, and some clumps of dirt from the Sheriff's boots. 

Marian had to consciously keep herself from hitting the wall. She was running out of time, and not just tonight. Nothing had come from the messengers they searched and nothing had come from asking about around Nottingham. The king, if Guy's information was correct, was scheduled to land in three days. Even if she left as soon as the sun rose, Marian would have difficulty getting to the coast in time. She _had_ to find proof tonight or there would be nothing Robin could use to convict the Sheriff even if he did manage to keep the king from getting killed. 

Her gaze swept the room. _Maybe if I try the stones…?_ But that would take forever, and she needed to be heading back out the window by now. She looked at the bed again, with its three-panel headboard. She didn't want to admit how much it bothered her to be back here. But the Sheriff was the kind of man who wouldn't let important and treasonous information out of his sight. He was too smart for that, so here she was, in a place she east wanted to be. 

_I bet he would never think someone would break into his room_ , she thought wryly _, especially his bedroom_. 

An idea was forming in the back of her mind but it kept slipping out of her grasp. Marian stared at the headboard absently, waiting for that idea to move its way to the forefront of her brain. While she waited she noticed one of the panels looked a little uneven. _I'm surprised he hasn't fixed that…_

Realization dawned. Calling herself all kinds of stupid for not checking, Marian ran to the side of the bed and knocked quietly on the panels. Only the middle one made a hollow sound when she knocked on it. Kneeling on the bed and doing her best not to mess up the sheets, she pushed on the panel with the pads of her fingers, systematically going around its edges. It didn't open. Then she started pressing the panels to either side of it. She pressed the top left corner of the right panel and heard a faint _click_ but nothing happened. Frowning, she continued her search. When she moved to the left panel and pressed the top right corner she heard another click. But, again, nothing happened. 

She pressed both corners at once. When the top of the middle panel popped out she had to smother a shout of triumph. Marian carefully extricated the panel from its spot and looked into the small black hole of the Sheriff's secret compartment. Inside it was a red leather-bound book and she started flipping through the pages. A few sheets of parchments slithered out onto the bed but the markings in the book itself caught her attention. 

On one side of the page the Sheriff had written names. Some she recognized as towns around Nottingham, others she didn't recognize at all. On the other side of the page were two columns of numbers. One column had deductions in rows without any names. Then a few rows down the same amount deducted from above would match a row with the letter "X." 

Not quite sure what she found, Marian put the book aside and picked up the pieces of parchment. One read: 

**_You ask a big favor. For this, I will ask a big price. Are you willing to take the risk? Are you willing to front the cost?_**

Another, clearly an answer to the Sheriff's reply, said: 

**_You must have a deep purse and strong connections to be so confident. Very well. My services are worth the price. If you can pay then what you ask will be done. Give my men the money and everything will go smoothly._ **

A pit of dread was forming in Marian's stomach. When she read the last one she felt a chill that had nothing to do with the evening air. 

**_The information is good. I'll put it in motion. England is no place for lions._**

These notes didn't seem to be in the Sheriff's writing, but she would bet her bow they were correspondences between the assassins he hired to kill the king. How did he get the money? Marian's gazed wandered back to the book and she realized what it was. A ledger, an account of all the taxes he collected… "And kept for himself," she whispered. "He took the tax money, charged the citizens extra so it would go unnoticed, and then used that money to pay men to kill the king," she realized. No one was there to hear but not many could have withstood their ground in the face of the anger and disgust in her voice. 

Her hands shook. This wasn't definitive; in fact the Sheriff was probably going to deny this evidence in every way he could. But it was all she had. Marian put the papers back in the book and then put the panel back in place. She smoothed the covers on the bed, erasing any evidence of her presence and made her way back to the shuttered window through which she entered. 

Marian tucked the book into her weapons belt to leave her hands free for the climb down. When she peeked out the window she could see the yellow glow from the fires her people had set outside the wall. At least they were still burning, giving her just enough time to climb down. Once she was on her feet Marian was able to use the side door to the castle, the one the messenger used, to slip out unnoticed. In the morning the maid would come in and grumble about the carelessness of the other maids in leaving the shutters unlatched. The guard who was supposed to lock the side door simply prayed his sergeant wouldn't notice that he had forgotten. 

Robin heard shouting inside the tent. He couldn't quite tell what was being said and right now he was hard-pressed to care. His feet hurt, his legs hurt, and he was covered in sweat. His horse snorted and jerked his head up, forcing Robin to yank the reins down in a silent order to behave. But he couldn't really blame the animal. It had been a long ride. 

During the journey Robin hardly slept. Some part of him was always on alert because he didn't trust Brutus as far as he could throw him—and Brutus was a big guy. Despite the mistrust, the trip was uneventful and they made it to the coast without any mishaps. Eleven tents, two rows of five and the biggest in the middle, were staked on a rise of land some feet before the grass turned to sand. The royal pennants snapped in the wind above the largest tent where Robin was waiting. He knew these men were not true soldiers, or they were bought soldiers, but he had to admit they looked legitimate. That was going to make everything a lot harder. 

Brutus poked his head out of the tent. "Boss wants t'see ya," he said. He seemed unperturbed about the verbal lashing he had just received, which made Robin a little nervous. He just wasn't sure about what. 

Robin handed the reins of his horse to Brutus, not waiting to see if the man would actually take it. When he entered the tent he got his first glimpse at the man Robin believed the Sheriff was paying to kill the king. 

He was small, smaller than Robin had imagined. The man wasn't only short, but he was slight. Robin could see that he was fit underneath the plain and loose-fitting clothing. The man eyed Robin with a cold, calculating gaze. Looking at those eyes it wasn't hard to believe this man was an assassin. He kept his reddish-brown beard closely trimmed and his head shaved. His right ear was deformed, as if someone had tried to remove it with a knife and only partly succeeded. The man sat on a barrel, his elbows resting on his knees, but he sat the barrel like someone would sit on a throne. This man was dangerous. 

"My man says you wish to join us?" His voice was calm. There was no hint of the anger Robin had overheard earlier. He seemed well educated but to him the education was a tool to raise him through the ranks. 

Robin shrugged. "He said there was money in it." 

The man narrowed his eyes just the slightest bit. "Did he now? And did he say what exactly we had to do to obtain this money?" 

He smirked. "I'm aware. All I want is the money. Whatever I need to do to ensure that, well, I will do." 

The man eyed him for a moment longer and Robin did his best to keep his nerves under control. "What are you called, then?" 

"Robert," he held out his hand for the other man to shake. 

"Charles Havershom. _Captain_ Charles Havershom," he shook Robin's hand. Robin knew the "captain" title was a fake, and from the glint in his eye he could guess that the rest of his name was fake as well. "Brutus can show you were to get settled. But don't get too comfortable," Charles grinned. "The king should land any day now, and once he does we'll be on the move." 

"I'll be ready," Robin said. He would be ready. He would be ready to do whatever it took to keep the king safe. 

"Leave your horse. We'll add it to the community pot." 

"What?" Robin snapped. "You can't do that, I need it." 

Havershom shrugged. "You want to join us. Having you on board, I can tell will add to the probability of success on the mission. But you are also taking away from our individual paychecks. And, like you, we are in it for the money." 

Robin glared, using the anger to mask his apprehension at his escape plan getting taken away. Havershom laughed, completely unaffected by Robin's anger. "Consider this your membership fee. I think it's fair compensation. If you don't like it, you can leave right now." 

There was no room for argument and if Robin was being honest, he knew he wouldn't leave. Besides, if he tried, they would probably kill him in order to keep their secret. Robin didn't answer and he didn't move. Havershom nodded. "That's what I thought. Come on Brutus!" he called. The tent flapped open and Brutus, who seemed to be the captain's second, walked in and clapped Robin on the shoulder. "Good t' have ye on board. I'll show ye where to set your things." 

Robin glanced back to Captain Havershom who nodded, giving them permission to leave. As he followed Brutus out, the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He knew the assassin was watching them go. Did Havershom suspect? Robin couldn't be sure, but he had to continue as if his cover was intact. 

It was a short walk, since there weren't many men here. Those who were sitting outside sharpening their weapons or playing dice looked up as the two of them passed. They were hard and suspicious looks, not a friendly face among them. He didn't sense outright hostility, but there sure wasn't any desire to form camaraderie with the new guy. 

They were outfitted in royal uniforms but if you knew what to look for you could tell something was off. The clothes didn't quite fit and the tents weren't quite up to par. The royal insignia on the fabric looked a little too new. _Or maybe I'm just paranoid because I know what they're trying to do_ he thought wryly. 

"Home sweet home," Brutus said when they reached the end of the row. Robin looked out at the ocean, scanning the horizon without speaking. All he saw was the empty grey sea and so sign of the King. 

"So, I hafta ask," Brutus said amiably apparently unaware that Robin would rather be by himself. "You ever hear 'a Robin Hood? I mean, with you workin' near Nottingham an' all." 

It was an effort not to react to the question. "I heard of him," he said calmly. "Did my best not to meet him." 

"Why not?" Brutus asked. "He's famous, 'e is." 

_Thanks_ , Robin thought to himself _._ He remembered the first time he spoke to Marian, and the fact that she had no idea, or pretended not to have one, of who he was and had to suppress a smile. "He's got…principles," Robin answered. "A man with principles gets in the way of the money." 

Brutus laughed, loud and without reservation. "Well you ain't wrong." Robin nodded in response. "Ah, well, ye probably wan'ta get settled. I'll leave ye too it. Welcome to His Majesty's service." He chuckled at his own joke and ambled back towards the center of the camp. 

Robin shrugged off his pack and dropped it on the ground, letting go of more than just the weight of the bag now that he was alone. His pile of supplies looked like nothing at all without his bow and quiver of arrows. They had decided it might be too much of a giveaway if he was carrying around Robin Hood's famed weapon. So now he was in an enemy camp with nothing but a dagger and a few spare clothes. He itched to do something now and prevent the attack on the king before it ever had a chance to happen. But there was no way he could take on eleven hired killers by himself. 

_Come on archer boy_ , a voice that sounded a lot like Marian said in his head. _You can do this. You've got to. It's time to get to work._

*RMRMRMRMRM* 

The steady clopping of their horses hooves was enough to lull Sir Guy into relaxation if he hadn't been so worried about the conversation he had with Sheriff before they left Nottingham. Guy looked up the line where the man in question was leading their group to where the King was supposed to land. But he wasn't in a hurry, which bothered Guy. They were two days out from Nottingham and, keeping a steady pace, they would be at the coast in another three or four days. 

He had been in the room on the night the messenger left when one of the guards brought a report that the messenger had been attacked. Guy knew it was Hood and was slightly surprised by the sinking feeling he got when the soldier made the report. He was disappointed because now the Sheriff knew, and could go and stop Hood before Hood stopped the mercenaries. Hood had failed. Guy refused to think that maybe he could have done more to help. 

But the worst part was, when the Sheriff heard the news he didn't react at all how Guy had expected. He didn't get angry and he didn't explode. In fact, Guy could have sworn he almost _smiled_. And if there was anything worse than a Sheriff flying off the handle in rage, it was a Sheriff who was happy. 


	20. In Enemy Territory

A hand clamped down on Robin's mouth, jerking him out of his sleep. 

His eyes flew open and he thrashed, trying to throw off whoever was holding him down. Another hand swatted his hand away "Jesus, Rob," a voice growled in his ear. "Relax, will you? It's me!" 

Robin stopped fighting, surprised into stillness. Once he relaxed the hand disappeared and he could focus on the looming figure above him. The shadowy outline filled up his little tent even though his visitor seemed to be crouching as much as he could. 

"Little John?" he whispered, hoping his neighbors hadn't been alerted to the brief struggle. 

"Who did think it was?" John answered harshly. "Nearly broke my nose swinging your fist around like that, you lummox," he muttered. 

"It's your own fault for sneaking up on me in my sleep," Robin said, not the least bit apologetic. He had spent the rest of yesterday getting to know the men, which wasn't easy when they were all suspicious of him and annoyed that he had diminished their pay from the job. Today he had been briefed by Havershom and scouted the area with Brutus and another man called Alf. He had gone to bed tired and on edge, just waiting for a knife in the back. 

"You have to admit, your method of waking me up was a bit sinister. When did you get here?" 

"A few hours ago," John answered quietly. "The boys are setting up a good distance from here. Don't worry," he interrupted Robin's unformed command. "I told them, no fires and no tents unless we absolutely need them." 

Robin nodded. He studied John, wondering if there was more the man was going to tell him but nothing seemed forthcoming. He hesitated and then took a breath. "How, um, how was everyone when you left?" 

"They're fine," John answered. "Marian was working on a plan to get the proof we need." He could hear the grin in John's voice. "She told me I better look after you and make sure you don't worry about back home or she was going to have come down here herself, and we don't have time for that." 

Robin laughed quietly. "Sounds like her." 

"They will be fine," Little John said. "But we need to make sure you're fine too. What's the status here?" 

Robin nodded. "There are eleven men total. All of them are well versed in mercenary work. Their leader calls himself Charles Havershom. He's going to be a hard man to stop." 

"We're right behind you Rob," John said quietly. "You've got us to back you up." 

"I need you to just keep watch for now," Robin said. "Whatever you do, stay out of sight. They don't trust me." He didn't want to voice his other worry. He knew they were suspicious of him, but why did they let him join so readily? Then again, maybe that was just part of the job. It was the same back and forth he had been having with himself the last day or so and it wasn't getting resolved. So he stayed silent for now. "If they see five more strange men show up, my cover will be blown and the King will be dead." 

"Do you have a plan?" the big man asked. His voice was steady but Robin could still detect the uncertainty. 

"Do you want me to be honest?" Robin asked. 

John looked at him askance. "You mean you _don't_ have a plan? Robin, this is the one time you need one!" 

"I'm waiting until Havershom tells me their plan. It depends when they are going to try and make a move on the King and if I'll have time to get to him first," he said. Then h punched John lightly on the shoulder. "Don't worry old man," he joked. "I'll be fine. Now get out of here before someone notices." 

He could see John shake his head. "You're going to be the death of me lad, making me worry like this," he said drily. John turned to go, waiting a moment to make sure the coast was clear. Halfway out he turned back and flashed Robin a grin. "Good luck. Remember, we've got your back." John disappeared and Robin waited with apprehension for any alarm. The silence dragged on, which meant Little John had gotten out undetected. He let out a breath in relief and lay back. Suddenly the mission didn't feel so impossible. Robin stared at the ceiling of his one-man tent, thinking back to what John said and Marian's message. He knew she would be fine. Robin had faith she would find what they needed and he was glad she was the one on the job. The quiet, rhythmic pounding of the ocean waves in the background lulled him back to drowsiness. Before he fell back to sleep a final thought drifted through his mind. If he could save the King, in just a few days everything would be over. He could stop hiding. He could stop living the life of an outlaw. He could go home. 

*RMRMRMR* 

The next day Robin awoke to an unusual buzz of energy in the camp. He made his way to the central area where the rest of the men had already gathered. Brutus was standing on the edge of the gathered group of men. Robin came up next to him searching the faces of the group for Havershom. "What's going on?" he asked. 

Brutus grinned in a predatory way. When he did that Robin remembered this man wasn't simply a messenger. He was also a mercenary and one with a lot of power in the group. "Th' boat's been spotted." 

"It's about time," one of the other men said looking over his shoulder at them. "I've been going out of my mind just sitting here. You're the only exciting thing that's happened in over a week," he nodded at Robin. 

"Glad I could be of service," he answered drily. Brutus barked out a laugh and pounded him on the back. 

"Yer a smart one, ain't ya," he said. "I bet those smarts have gotten ya into trouble before." 

"Once or twice," Robin admitted. 

Brutus eyed him in a way that made Robin worried. "Aye, and once or twice more probably," he grinned. 

Robin frowned. "Probably. If you don't mind, I'm going to talk to Havershom." 

Brutus waved him away, turning to his left to talk to another mercenary-turned-soldier. Robin shook his head, forgetting the strange comment, and pushed his way through to the front of the crowd. 

Havershom wasn't there so Robin went to his tent. "Captain!" he called through the fabric. 

He heard a muffled "Enter," so he pushed the flap aside. Havershom was speaking with one of his men, who was guzzling water from a canteen and had a spyglass hanging from his belt. This must be the scout who said the King's boat was almost ready to land. They both looked up as Robin came in. 

"Dismissed, Collin. Good work," Havershom said. 

Collin nodded. He brushed past Robin on the way out without any acknowledgment. Collin was one of those who wasn't happy about Robin's role in the pay decrease. Havershom smiled thinly but didn't rebuke his man. "What can I do for you, Robert?" 

"I heard the King is about to arrive," Robin said, crossing his arms. "I want to know my role in whatever plan you've got prepared." 

"You don't need to worry," Havershom said, walking up to Robin. He slung an arm around Robin's shoulder and led him outside. "I've got it all under control. Once the King lands you'll be assigned to your post. All you'll need to do is stand guard and let us do our job." 

"I can help," Robin said. "I don't need to just guard." 

"You're new here Robert, so I'm going to give it to you straight," Havershom said. "I've already picked out who we need." The captain's voice suddenly turned cold. "When I give an order, you follow it. Understood? Or I might have reason to doubt your loyalty." 

Robin nodded stiffly. "Understood." He would have to find some way to sneak to wherever the king was going to be before they implemented the plot Havershom had cooked up. It was clear the captain wasn't going to tell him the whole thing on his own. 

Havershom smiled and the coldness lifted. "Wonderful. No need to worry Robert. Just take the rest of the day to relax. The real work starts tomorrow." 

Robin saluted lazily. "Yes, sir." 

Havershom's eyes glinted but he didn't respond to Robin's mocking gesture. In hindsight it probably wasn't the best move to make, but at that moment his personal feelings about the man got the best of him. 

"Gentlemen!" Havershom called out, getting their attention. The mumbling and grumbling faded and each of them waited to get their orders, now that their job was finally coming to a close. "As you've probably heard, our target is close to landing. Brutus, we've got plans to discuss. Robert, Alf, Collin, David, and Julian will be posted as guards outside the camp once the King sets up. Chris, Henry, and James will be posted outside the King's tent. Whatever you hear make sure no one interrupts us. Evan and Connor will take care of whoever the King brought with him. Once they are eliminated they will let us know and Brutus and I will do our job. If we succeed, scatter and meet at the rendezvous point three days hence. That's where we will get paid. If we don't succeed we'll all be hanged." The captain grinned. "So that doesn't leave us much of a choice." 

The men chuckled and Robin looked at their faces. None of them seemed perturbed at the thought that they were about to commit regicide. He looked at Havershom and saw a flash of something cross his face. It was like he knew a secret that none of them were in on. Even if they did succeed in killing the king, and Robin was going to make sure that didn't happen, would any of them make the rendezvous point? Robin had a feeling it wouldn't bother Havershom in the least to have the rest of them fall victim to some accident between here and there. 

"Why do we get stuck with the new kid?" Collin complained, bring Robin's attention back to the present. The others laughed and Robin scowled at him. 

"The new kid doesn't want to be stuck with you either," Robin said. The others around them made faces or some goading noise, but he couldn't let the insult go without saying something. That would be more suspicious than standing up for himself. 

Collin frowned and stepped towards Robin. "You think you're tough? That you get here a day ago and all of a sudden you can just take our place?" The others immediately backed up and formed a circle around the two. "Well let me tell you, you don't know the half—" 

"Collin!" Havershom's voice cut through the growing hubbub. "The new kid is with you because I say he is with you." The leader pushed between the two of them, his face calm but his eyes angry. "Is that going to be a problem?" 

Collin hesitated continuing to glare at Robin. When he glanced back at Havershom the leader held his gaze. Something passed between them and Robin noticed when Collin decided to back down. "No, sir. No problem." 

"Good. Let's not kill each other. At least until after we get the money," he smiled. "Let's go welcome our King." The men chuckled and started to drift apart, now that the fight had been shut down. Robin waited until everyone—Collin in particular—turned away and left. He didn't feel safe turning his back on him. The sooner this was over, the better. 

*RMRMRMR* 

Robin stood in line with the others, watching as the rowboat came closer. His feet sunk a little into the sand and the wind off the ocean whipped the pennants Havershom had supplied them with. He had to force himself not to turn around and look behind him for signs of his own men. He had to trust that they were there. 

His stomach flipped, and he could feel how slick his palms were. The king was coming and despite it all Robin was…excited. That was the best way to describe it. He had been waiting for this moment for years, for the chance to put everything right. There was only one last obstacle in the way. 

Robin glanced down the line to his left where Havershom waited, slightly separated from the rest of the troops. He looked every inch the soldier. Robin's nerves buzzed, wanting act to now, to get it over with. But he knew he couldn't possibly make a move until the very last moment. 

He looked back to the ocean and could faintly hear the splash of the oars, out of synch with the sound of the waves. As the boat drew closer, bobbing in and out of sight as it dipped and fell in the swells, Robin strained his eyes in order to distinguish the occupants of the boat. There were four rowers and one man sitting in the stern. 

Moment by moment the boat's passengers came into focus. Once they reached the shallows one of the men jumped out with a splash and started to pull the boat up on to the beach. Havershom walked towards him and Robin's hand tightened around the handle of a borrowed sword. But Havershom simply helped pull the boat onto the sand. Once the vessel came to a stop the man in the back jumped out and shook Havershom's hand. 

"Welcome home, Your Majesty," Havershom said with a bow. 

The man stretched and let out a gusty sigh. "Ah, Captain, it is good to be home." Robin watched King Richard the Lionheart, monarch of England. He was a tall man and broad shouldered. His voice was loud even when having a normal conversation with one of his rowers. He sported a russet beard and shoulder length hair of the same color. At the moment it was pulled back in a simple queue and he sported salt-stained, plain traveling clothes with well-worn boots. A sword hung at his side but that was his only weapon. He didn't wear a circlet or crown but Robin noticed a large signet ring on his right hand. 

"Shall I greet my welcoming party?" King Richard turned to the line of waiting soldiers. He was smiling, white teeth flashing from behind his beard and inviting everyone to smile with him. Richard walked down the line slowly, shaking hands with the men and asking them their names. 

"Hello, lad," he said when he reached Robin. "You seem a bit young to be a part of my forces," Richard said. He frowned slightly but Robin quickly shook the proffered hand. 

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I've always wanted to serve, and I never got the chance to join you in the Crusades." 

Sorrow flickered across his king's face. "Well I appreciate your service now, son." He paused but didn't move on. He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it. Then he shook his head and decided to say whatever was on his mind. "You remind me of someone," Richard said softly. "A good friend of mine." 

It took Robin a few moments to figure out how to answer, hoping the others around him took no notice of the king's comment. "Well, Your Majesty, I hope I can live up to him. Whoever he was." 

Richard smiled again. His features masking the emotion that had been there for a moment and showing only polite interest. "I'm sure you will, son." Richard moved further down the line, greeting the rest of the men. He was genuinely happy as he talked to them, completely unaware of the danger they posed. 

"Nice work," one of the men, Evan, mumbled to him. "One might almost think you actually were loyal to the king." 

Robin felt a chill crawl down his back but he forced a sneer on to his face. "It's called acting," he murmured back. "I could give you lessons but, let's face it, you couldn't afford it." He stared straight ahead waiting for a response, but none was forthcoming. Hopefully his answer was enough to satisfy whatever suspicion had sparked in Evan's mind. 

"You're Majesty" Havershom said at the end of the line. "We can either rest here tonight and travel in the morning, or ride for a few hours before we stop." 

"Let's get as far as we can tonight," King Richard said. "I'm ready to travel over some English soil for a while." The four men who rowed the boat formed up around the king in a loose square. Haversom whistled and Brutus brought the horse they had taken from Robin and offered it to the king. 

Richard shook his head. "I've been on the ship for days, I need to get my land legs back. Use the horse to lighten the men's load." 

Havershom bowed his head and Brutus took the horse and started loading their tents and supplies onto the animal's back. Once they were ready to go, having packed most of their supplies that morning in preparation of the King's arrival, Robin formed up with the other men into two columns of five. He glanced inland, hoping Little John and his reinforcements realized what was happening and could keep up without being discovered. 

Havershom talked amiably with the King while the group marched but they were too far away for Robin to hear what they said. The men the king had brought with him kept their heads on a swivel, watching for any possible threats. They didn't participate in discussion. Robin heard Richard laugh heartily at something Havershom said. If only the four other men knew the real threat was closer to home than they realized. 

As the sun descended in the sky, Robin noticed Brutus slowing his walk to talk to different men down the line. When he reached Robin's position Havershom's second leaned in. 

"When we set up camp tonight, you'll take your post on the southern end of camp." Brutus didn't wait for confirmation before he moved further down the line. Robin looked back up the line at the King, who appeared to be regaling Havershom with some story. _This was it_ , he thought. Tonight the men the Sheriff hired were going to kill the king and he was the only one who could stop it. 

*RMRMRMRMR* 

He stood looking outward into the night. Robin couldn't see them, but he knew two of the other mercenaries were out there too, one to his right and one to his left, ringing the campsite. He glanced over his shoulder and could see the flickering light of individual fires and the murmur of voices as the rest settled down after the simple dinner. A breeze blew across the plains bringing with it a slight chill, lingering from the winter months. Robin drew his cloak around him more tightly and hoped that Little John and his men were close in case he needed help. 

The moon inched its way higher into the sky and Robin sat still and silent until it almost reached its peak. Havershom wouldn't do his horrible deed until everyone was supposed to be asleep. Unfortunately that meant Robin couldn't warn the king beforehand since he had been under Havershom's watchful eye the entire march. Finally, when Robin couldn't wait any longer, he casually turned and walked slowly through the camp. He stayed alert, his eyes darting to the shadows and around corners of tents hoping not to see anyone and, at the same time, hoping he would because that might mean he wasn't too late. 

He could see the king's tent. It wasn't any larger than the others but Havershom insisted it fly the royal banner for protocol's sake. Light filtered out from underneath the canvas. _He must have lit a lamp_ , Robin thought peering left and right for any sign of the assassins. _That means I've still got time_ … 

The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he heard the faintest footfall behind him. Acting on pure instinct Robin dropped and rolled to the side as a blade whistled overhead. 

"You're supposed to be on guard duty," a voice said from above. Robin looked up into Collin's sneering face, silently cursing his luck. "Havershom told me to watch out for you. Guess he knew what he was talking about." Robin jumped to his feet shuffled to the side, glancing towards the king's tent. But he had to leap backwards when Collin swung his sword again. He didn't have time for this. 

"And you're okay with killing the rightful king? With committing regicide?" Robin asked, deciding his act was over. He stayed on the balls of his feet and tried to keep himself between Collin and the light seeping from the king's tent. 

"One king is the same as another," Collin replied callously. "As long as I get paid, I don't care. What I do care about is some snot-nosed do-gooder getting in the way." 

Robin realized Collin was going to attack a moment before it happened. Collin's body tensed for a breath and then he lunged. Robin flung himself backwards, trying to get out of the way. He grabbed Collin's wrist, the one with the weapon, and strained to keep it from biting into his neck. The other man used his free hand and punched Robin in the gut. Robin doubled over in reaction to the pain but kept his grip on Collin's wrist, stepping in closer to take away the advantage of a long blade. 

Robin smashed his head into Collin's face. Collin stumbled back, cursing and Robin swept his feet out from underneath him, ignoring the ringing in his own head. Collin fell to the ground with a thud and Robin knelt, slamming the man's wrist against the ground, breaking his grip on the sword. He threw the loose weapon to the side then turned back towards his opponent. 

Collin was already coming towards him. Robin didn't have any time to react before hands wrapped around his throat and the full force of Collin's rage slammed into him. Robin fell backwards with a thud. The pressure on his throat increased and his lungs started to burn. He bucked, trying to throw the bigger man off of him but Collin was too sturdy. 

"My orders were to stop you," Collin said, breathless. "But I might just go a bit farther." 

Robin's fingers scrabbled in the grass, searching for the weapon he had foolishly thrown away. He couldn't draw his own sword because there wasn't enough room. Collin squeezed harder and Robin's vision started to get fuzzy while panic fizzed in his belly. He didn't have much time. Robin stretched as far as he could and his fingers brushed the hilt Colin's sword. Latching on to his last chance, he clutched the hilt and then heaved the weapon up and across his body. 

He had meant to use the flat part of the blade. Robin didn't want to kill the man. But with the lack of oxygen and primal instinct surging through his veins he couldn't think straight. With the hands around his throat cutting off his air supply the only thing he could really remember thinking was that he had to live. That's why he didn't realize the edge of the sword was the part that embedded itself into Collin's neck. The first thing he noticed when the pressure on this throat eased was the cool, blessed air filling his lungs. The second thing was that he had lost the sword again. 

He scrambled to his knees, backing up and tensing for another attack. It took him a moment to register the sword stuck in Collin's neck as the man staggered backwards. He pulled the sword out of his neck and clutched at the wound, blood seeping through his fingers. Robin was frozen in horror as he met Collin's eyes. The anger was gone and in its place was simple bewilderment. 

Collin slowly sank to the ground as his life slowly trickled away with the blood. Robin unfroze suddenly and went over to him, putting his own hands on Collin's neck to stem the flow. His enemy only a few moments ago, Collin opened his mouth to say something. But he only emitted faint, pathetic gurgling sounds. Then there was nothing. Robin stayed there a few moments with his hands on the wounded man's neck before he realized the wound had stopped bleeding. 

Collin looked up to the sky with dead eyes, no longer seeing the beauty of the stars above. Robin slowly let go and leaned back. He felt cold. He hadn't meant to kill anyone, even if that man had been trying to kill him. He just wanted to save the king and go home. 

Suddenly torches flared all around him and Robin looked up in surprise. The King's guard surrounded him, their weapons out and pointed in his direction. Havershom came out from the behind the King's tent, smiling triumphantly. King Richard followed him. 

"Stand slowly, with your hands up," one of the men who had come across the sea with the king ordered. 

Stunned, Robin did as he was told. He looked at Havershom. "What's going on?" 

"I told you, your Majesty," Havershom said, ignoring Robin. "Someone wanted you dead. I'm just sorry I was right. Collin was a good man." 

Richard looked at the dead mercenary, sorrow etched on his face. "What?" Robin cried out stepping forward involuntarily. He stopped when the soldiers brandished their weapons. "This isn't what you think!" 

"Is it not?" The king asked him. All the warmth and geniality had disappeared from his voice. "You've just killed one of my men." 

"He was trying to kill me!" Robin protested. Dread trickled into his veins as he realized things had gone very wrong. "Your Majesty, you are in danger but I was trying to prevent it. He's the one who is trying to kill you." He pointed at the captain. 

Havershom shook his had sadly and the king seemed to be buying it. "I told you he would try to pass on the blame. He's not who he says he is, are you? Robin Hood." 

Robin felt like he had been slapped. "What?" 

"The Sheriff of Nottingham, the king's loyal servant, warned me you would be coming. So I could prepare my men and save the king from your…ill-fated assassination attempt," Havershom said. 

It was a trap. The whole thing had been a trap. Robin realized the Sheriff would still try to kill King Richard, but he must not have been able to pass up the opportunity to get rid of Robin first. 

"Seize him," Richard ordered. "I presume you know the penalty traitors must pay?" 

Soldiers rushed him and forced Robin to his knees. He wrenched his arms away, fighting against them but he refused draw his weapon on honest men. He felt them grab his wrists and tie them, the rope biting into his skin. 

"Your Majesty, don't do this," Robin pleaded. "He's _lying_. The Sheriff paid him and his men to kill you." 

"Including the man you just killed, I presume?" Havershom asked mockingly. Robin didn't dare glance at him or the fury and desperation that was building inside him would ignite and he would do something that was ill advised for the situation. 

"Yes, including him. I didn't want to kill him, but it was either him or me. Please, you have to believe me." 

Richard looked at Robin, his face unreadable. Havershom stepped closer. "Don't listen to him, Highness. Traitors will say anything to get them out of trouble." 

"I would only lie if I knew you would believe it," Robin snapped. "But I'm telling the truth." 

The soldiers hooked their arms around his and started dragging him away. Robin kicked out in protest but he was no match for them. Real fear started to pierce through the anger when he realized he might not make it out of this camp alive. 

"Wait," Richard commanded. The soldiers stopped moving and Robin saw a flicker of consternation across Havershom's face. "The accusation you make is a serious one," the King said. "Why should I believe you?" 

He had a chance. A slim chance to salvage what was left of this task. "My father was Aiden of Locksley," Robin said and he noticed a brief flash of surprise from the king that was quickly hidden. "You knew him, you knew he was an honorable man." 

"Yes," Richard said. "Aiden was a good friend of mine." He titled his head, examining Robin once again. "I can now see his features in your face. But that does nothing to tell me why I should believe you." 

"I would never to anything to dishonor him," Robin said hoping his honesty was clear. "All I want is for you to restore England and save it from the corruption that has festered at its heart." 

"This might say something different," Havershom interrupted. He dangled a pouch of money in front of Robin's face. "We found this in his bags when he first arrived, Your Majesty. Blood money." 

Richard frowned and Robin looked at him desperately. "I don't care about the money. I took it off of a messenger we intercepted, sent from the Sheriff to him," he nodded at Havershom. "It was payment to kill you." 

Havershom scoffed. "I have to say, it's a very dashing story. But where's your proof?" 

"We have it," Robin said without thinking. This time Havershom seemed thrown off. He hadn't expected that. "It's coming." 

Richard looked thoughtfully at his captive. "Captain, didn't you tell me the Sheriff was coming to meet us in London?" 

Havershom stiffened. "Yes, Your Majesty." 

The king nodded, coming to a decision. "Very well. We will stay the execution until I can hear both sides of this story. Keep this man secured," he ordered Robin's guards. "When we reach London there will be a trial. We want to be thorough, do we not Captain?" 

"Of course sir," Havershom said. Robin thought the words sounded a little bitter coming out of his mouth but Richard didn't seem to notice. 

His captors hauled Robin to his feet, none to gently. "Your Majesty," Robin said, straining against their hold for a few more moments. "Please, post only the men who came with you at your tent. Don't trust anyone else." 

"Come on," one of the guards grumbled and Robin stumbled, pulled off balance. As he was escorted away Robin threw another glance over his shoulder, where other men were gathering up Collin's lifeless body. The King stared after him his face unreadable. A hand shoved Robin's head forward and he stared listlessly at the ground while he walked. He could only pray that he was right and Marian had been successful, and that she wouldn't be too late. 


	21. Long Live the King

Will tapped the piece of parchment with his quill, the ink on its tip long since dried. He was writing a letter to Alyss, even though he didn't know exactly where she was, since her last communication was almost a month ago. That didn't usually stop him. There were safe houses and checkpoints so eventually she would get them. But this time he just couldn't find the words. 

Someone cleared their throat and Will jumped. He had been so absorbed in trying to find something to say that he hadn't heard anyone come into the infirmary tent. He was even more startled when he turned and saw who his visitor was. 

"Mind if I sit?" King Duncan asked. Will reached for his crutch in order to stand but the king stopped him. "Please, no need to get up," he said. "I just wanted to talk." 

Will sank back onto the box he was sitting on and cleared the other one he had been using for a desk. Then he gestured for Duncan to sit. The King did so with a heavy sigh. Will noticed a few extra lines around his eyes and absently wondered when the king had gotten so grey. 

"What can I do for you, Your Majesty?" Will asked politely. His voice was a little cool and he knew the King noticed. 

"I just wanted to see how you were holding up," Duncan responded. "You took a pretty nasty wound there." 

"It's healing," Will replied. "I'm fit for duty if that's what you're wondering." 

Duncan shook his head. "I have no doubt you would perform admirably in the field, but there's no need for that just yet. Jeren and his forces have been quiet, and you were able to give us advance warning of the group behind us." The older man rubbed his face and Will was slightly surprised to see such an expression of tiredness. Duncan sighed and looked down at the ground. "I want you to know, Gilan's choice of punishment wasn't entirely his own decision." 

_Well._ _It didn't take long for him to get to the point_ , Will thought. He felt chilled but did his best to keep a straight face. "Sir?" he asked. 

"I've been king a long time Will," he said. "I've let a lot of people down in order to do what's best for this country. A lot of people I care about, and a lot I felt responsible for. Sometimes I wonder if you can be a good king and still stay a good person," he added. Will wasn't quite sure if he was meant to respond to that, so he stayed silent when Duncan shook his head. "My point is, there may be times when your duties conflict. But the realm must always come first, and you have to be willing to lose people when that happens." 

The muscle in Will's cheek jumped as he clenched his jaw. He didn't want to lose anyone. "Commandant Gilan has made this clear." 

Duncan looked at Will sadly. "I need it to be more than clear. I need you to accept it," he said. "That's why I insisted you be suspended at Castle Araluen." 

"I'm not sure I see the connection, Your Majesty," Will said a little crisply. 

"When my daughter takes the throne, she will need people she can trust implicitly," Duncan said. "Those people will be few and far between. I need to know the people she surrounds herself with understand what must come first." 

Will felt a mix of anger and disbelief burning in his gut. "You don't think Cassandra can trust me?" 

"I'm saying that when the time comes to choose between your duty to the realm and the duty to someone else, I don't want any doubts you will make the necessary choice," he said, his voice hard. 

"Like Halt did?" Will pointed out, a little ungraciously. "I believe both Cassandra and I were there when Halt came to get me from Skandia." He let the silence extend for a moment and then asked, "would you have pardoned him if Cassandra hadn't have been there?" 

The King looked pained. "I didn't want to banish him Will. Halt is a friend. But since his return things have been different between us, and I don't ever want that for Cassandra." 

Will noticed the King didn't answer his question. He had a bitter taste of disillusion in his mouth that he didn't want to think about. This wasn't Cassandra's fault, but the fact that her father was talking to him about it was another matter entirely. He _knew_ he would serve her and Araluen without question. _I don't need to prove that to anyone_ , he insisted to the voice in the back of his mind that wondered—in the end, which loyalty would prevail? 

Duncan stood, and this time Will didn't even try to stand. "I'm sorry it came to this Will, and I hope Marian returns safely. But I hope you can understand the reason for it," he placed a hand on Will's shoulder and then let the tent, leaving Will alone with his thoughts. 

*RMRMRMRMR* 

What woke him that night were the horses, their terrified neighs sounding like screams. They dragged Will from his sleep and straight into a panic. Something was very wrong. 

He groped for the crutch next to his bed, silently grateful that he had fallen asleep in his Ranger's uniform. Will limped and stumbled from his tent right into the chaos of the camp, blinking rapidly to clear the sleep from his eyes. People ran around frantically, shouting orders and questions at each other with no one actually listening to what anyone else was saying. Above it all rose the screams of the horses. 

Will snagged a soldier by the arm, forcing the young man to halt. His face was streaked with sweat and there was fear in his eyes. But when he noticed Will's oak leaf he straightened. 

"What's going on?" Will asked. 

" _Valkans_ ," the soldier said. "They came out of nowhere…" 

His heart plummeted. How did they get here so quickly, without anyone noticing? "Where?" Will snapped. 

The soldier just shook his head, his hands shaking. Knowing he wouldn't get anything more out of him, Will let him go. "Find your captain!" he ordered. "If _valkans_ are here, Jeren can't be too far behind." 

The man nodded and took off into the roiling mass of people. Thoughts swirled through Will's head as he tried to figure out what was going on. He was surprised he hadn't been woken by the _valkans_ themselves, considering Jeren's vendetta against the Rangers. What was the plan here? It could be anything, a distraction, a simple attack, a mass assassination… "Halt," Will whispered, his stomach dropping. Maybe they were going for the most senior Rangers first. 

Will started running as fast as he could in the direction of the Ranger tents, which of course were not near the infirmary. His gait was rough and uneven and it slowed him down. He jostled his way through running people, all going in different directions. At one point, someone's foot caught his crutch and kicked it out from under him, sending him sprawling. A dull ache was growing in his leg and Will ran through every curse he could think of in his head, retaliating against the crutch itself and the fear that was building inside him. He pushed himself off the ground, bracing against the buffeting from the crowd. He could see the crutch was splintered at the end, but he held on to it as he continued on his way. 

When he finally reached Halt's tent, it was empty. No bodies, no blood, and nothing that would indicate where the Ranger might be. In fact, this part of the camp was relatively quiet. 

Will heard the grass rustle behind him and he turned without thinking, putting all his weight on his wounded leg. His body betrayed him and his leg spasmed, dropping him to one knee. He lashed out with the broken crutch without seeing who was there, waiting for claws or teeth to rip him apart. 

"Easy," Halt grumbled, stepping around the wide swing. He slipped his hands underneath Will's arm, hauling him to his feet. "What kind of form was that? I thought I taught you better than that." 

Will just shook his head and then, once he was standing, nudged Halt away. He would stand on his own. "Where is everyone?" 

"Scattered. I went looking for you," Halt said. "Everything is a mess, nobody seems to know where those animals are. They strike and then they're gone and all we can do is follow the bodies." 

"How many?" Will asked. 

Halt sighed. "We don't know. The reports are too conflicted." 

Will cursed. "We need to stop them. If the _valkans_ are still killing when Jeren's forces arrive, we'll be trapped between the two." 

Both men looked at each other. "You need to go, Halt," Will said. "Don't wait for me, I'll just slow you down." 

The hesitation was enough for Will to notice but his mentor simply growled. "Nonsense. You can still fight and you're better than most of these men." 

There was a swell in the yelling and screaming but this time there was a rhythm of speech to it. The two Rangers paused, listening intently. Will felt the blood drain from his face as he made out the words: "To the King! To the King!" 

They looked at each other, horrified. "Go!" Will shouted, and this time Halt listened. The older man took off towards the King's tent, Will following. He ran as fast as he could and for a while he kept pace, but eventually he fell behind. When he finally made it the first thing he saw were the dead soldiers who were supposed to be standing guard. The sight of the torn and mangled bodies lying at the entrance painted a picture he couldn't bear to think about. 

He heard snarling inside the tent and Will rushed inside, praying Halt and the King were all right. It was too late. Halt was simply standing over the animal, his saxe knife dripping with blood. The _valkan's_ body was a canvas of cuts and slashes. Blood matted its fur in swaths. One of its eyes was a mashed mess and the other eye rolled wildly in its socket, trying to pin the man in the cloak with its gaze. Its limbs were hamstrung, which explained why it wasn't going anywhere. 

"The King?" Will asked, fear thickening his voice. 

Halt just stood there, looking down at the animal. Will scanned the fairly spacious interior of the tent, dreading what some part of him knew he would find. The cot was overturned and weapons were scattered on the floor. When his eyes landed on the motionless lump on the ground, his heart stopped. 

King Duncan's body lay there, his sword mere inches from his open hand. The blade was bloody, but not as much as the clothes he wore. Huge gashes were torn across his chest, both skin and shirt hanging freely and so soaked in blood Will couldn't tell one from the other. The man he had talked to only hours earlier lay there, pale and cold, with a look of surprise frozen on his face. 

He stumbled over to the King's body and placed two fingers on his neck, hoping beyond hope he would find a pulse. But even if he had felt one there was nothing he could do. The _valkan's_ claws had found their mark. Will's vision blurred and tears started flowing down his face. It felt like the ground beneath his feet was crumbling. 

"He was on the ground when I got here," Halt said. His voice was more gruff than usual, and he didn't turn from the injured monster at his feet. "He was alive," his voice wavered. "There was nothing I could do." 

Will didn't know what to do. Grief threatened to shatter him, grief for his friends who would bear this personal loss and grief for his country. He looked at the splintered crutch in his hand and that grief hardened into anger. Slowly he got to his feet, favoring his leg, and then stood beside Halt. He gripped the broken crutch and raised it above his head. Then he jammed the splintered end through the _valkan's_ unwounded eye. 

Warm drops of blood splattered onto his face, but Will didn't flinch. The _valkan_ howled for a moment, but once the jagged wood entered its brain the only thing it did was twitch. Will watched as even those convulsions slowed and died all together. Then the two Rangers were left with two lifeless bodies. 

They heard a flurry of angry and terrified voices outside the tent and then soldiers burst in. As soon as the first few entered and took in the scene, a shocked silence descended. Will turned slowly and came face to face with Horace, whose armor was already battered and smeared with dirt. His friend's eyes were wide. 

"No!" Horace ran to the King's body. Will hurried to him, pulling him back by the shoulder. 

"Horace, stop! It's too late," Will's voice cracked. His friend fell to his knees, facing the body of his father-in-law. 

Horace shook his head. "No, this isn't…this isn't supposed to happen." 

"The King is dead," Halt's voice cut through the air. The soldiers, all stricken and confused, turned to him. "The King is dead." He faced Horace and then sank to one knee. "Long live the King." 

_Of course_ , Will though numbly. Right now, the crown had to pass to someone, and since Cassandra was back in Castle Araluen it went to Horace. They needed leadership and they needed it now. It was a battlefield coronation. 

He turned to Horace and knelt. Behind him he heard the rattle of armor that signaled the other soldiers were following suit. Will was close enough he could see Horace's hands shake as he stood to accept the responsibility that had passed to him through sudden, bloody violence. 

"King Duncan," his voice broke and he started again. "King Duncan was a good man and a good king," Will blinked, the words Duncan had said to him echoing in his head. "We will feel his loss deeply and for a very long time. What happened here today will not stand," Horace said, his voice growing stronger with each word. "King Duncan dedicated his heart, his soul, and ultimately his life for this country. We will not see it fall. Jeren is coming and he wants to see us broken. Instead he will see us united against him. He will be the one destroyed." 

Will snapped his head up as horns blared in the distance. The men around them stirred and the fear and anticipation of battle crackled through the air. "He's here," one of them murmured. 

"Wait," Will stood up, listening to the changing tones of the horns. "That's not Jeren." 

Another pattern of notes sounded. "Erak," Halt confirmed. 

"And Alyss," Will added softly. 

Horace's shoulders sagged for a brief moment in relief. "All right. Will, could you ride out and meet them? Bring Erak to the field command tent. Halt, if you could notify the other advisors, we need them to know about the King as soon as possible and they need to hear it from us." Halt nodded, but it was more than just affirmation. It was validation and encouragement. 

Horace straightened his shoulders. "Stefan!" he called. One of the men who had come in with him stood up. 

"Yes, sir?" Stefan asked. 

"Take some men and drag this thing out and leave it for the crows," Horace spat on the _valkan's_ body. 

"The rest of you, report to your squads. Jeren is on his way. The other _valkans_ that attacked us are dead," he told Will and Halt. "That's where we were, why we couldn't...couldn't get here in time." He closed his eyes. "For now, I will cover the king's body until we can perform a proper ceremony." 

"Very well, Sire," Halt said, bowing. Will followed suit and so did everyone else. 

"Let's go gentlemen," Horace said. His eyes were red-rimmed and his voice was hoarse. But he stood tall and straight, as if it all weighed nothing. "It's time to finish this war." 


	22. Out of Time

It was just her and Sky alone on the plains. With the wind in her hair and the motion of the horse beneath her, Marian could almost forget why they were here in the first place. They had left the comforting protection of Sherwood two days ago and, if her calculations were correct, were about three days from the coast. 

Marian patted the saddlebag for about the hundredth time, making sure the book and the letters were safely stowed away. She had this fear that if she stopped checking it would get lost somehow and then she would fail. The King would be killed and the Sheriff would get away with his plot. 

Sky stomped her foot, jerking Marian up out of her seat a little bit. _Stop worrying_ , the pony huffed. 

"I know, I know," Marian murmured. "It's just…I can't help it." She took out the map John had given her from a pocket inside her cloak and unfolded it. Tracing the path with her finger Marian murmured to herself and to Sky. "It shouldn't be long now until we reach the first crossroad. From there we veer right and its straight to the ocean to meet the King's party." She looked up, her eyes sweeping the empty landscape in front of her. "I just hope we get there in time." In time for what, she wasn't sure. But something inside her urged her to go faster. 

Marian didn't hold with giving in to her nerves all the time but it couldn't hurt to go a little faster now. She clucked to Sky, "Come on girl, let's pick up the pace. You need the exercise." 

Sky tossed her head in indignation. _I don't think I'm the one who needs the exercise_. But the pony responded to her rider's orders nonetheless. The steady rhythm of Sky's canter helped calm Marian's nerves and part of her mind wandered while her eyes stayed alert. For the first time she could see past this revolution. What would she do once it was over? When Richard took the throne she would have to tell him about who she was and her mission. But after that, well, she didn't know. Robin would most likely regain his lands and title and he wouldn't have time for a stranger like her anymore. Could she bring herself to move farther away from the gateway? Marian hated feeling useless and she knew that after the revolution ended and peace returned to England she wouldn't have a place anymore. Her skills were useful and they helped now, but she didn't know enough about England yet to be helpful otherwise. 

Something interrupted her train of thought, wrenching her mind back to the present. What had registered on her radar? Marian stood up slightly in the saddle and searched the horizon quadrant by quadrant. There! A figure appeared and then disappeared as it topped a ridge and went back into a dip between the hills. 

The figure appeared again and Marian realized he was riding a horse. She noticed when the rider saw her because he changed direction to come straight towards her. Sky noticed too because her ears pricked forward. Marian slowed Sky down and shrugged the longbow from her back, nocking an arrow to the string but not yet drawing it. 

Marian leaned back and Sky responded by halting. The two of them waited for the strange figure as he, or she, approached them. Marian narrowed her eyes, as the figure grew bigger and more recognizable. There was something familiar… 

Christopher, one of the men Little John took with him when he left, was riding at breakneck speed on one of the horses they had "borrowed" for the mission. When he reached them he skidded to stop, the horse rearing a little at the sudden halt. Marian clenched Sky's reins as her stomach did a flip and Sky pranced beneath her, feeling her master's dread as her own. 

"What happened?" she asked. He wouldn't be here if something wasn't wrong. Christopher was skinny and light, perfect for a rider who needed to get somewhere fast. 

"They got him," Christopher said through big gulps of air. He didn't need to say who. "The King landed but something happened and he's been tied up. They're taking him to London." 

Marian had trouble breathing. She should have known, she should have known it was too easy. _Stop it!_ She ordered herself. _He's not dead. If he's not dead you can still do this._

"All right," she murmured, gathering her thoughts. She had to focus. Marian pushed her panic aside, walling it off and forcing her hands to stop shaking. "All right," she told Christopher in a stronger voice. "Are you up for another ride? We'll need to catch up." 

She unhooked a water flask from the back of her saddle and handed it to Christopher who took it with a grateful smile. He guzzled the water and when he gave it back the flask was considerably lighter. 

"We don't have time to catch up to them. It will be quicker to intercept them by going directly to London from here." 

"And the others?" she asked. 

"They're trailing the King's entourage," he responded. "Little John sent me this direction to hopefully catch you and let you know." He looked at her then and, though he was several years older than her, the look in his eyes made him seem much younger. "Did you get it? Did you get the proof?" 

He looked so hopeful, but it was fragile. When Robin was captured it must have been a huge blow to morale. It was to her, anyway. Right now they both needed some confidence to keep that hope alive. 

"Get me to the King," she said. "Take me to London and I'll show him the truth." 

*RMRMRMRMR* 

The crowd was overwhelming. Somehow word of the King's arrival had spread faster than a virus and the people pressed together into one surging, riotous mass. Robin was hauled along in the back. He felt the glances of the crowd, curious but otherwise indifferent to the straggler in the back. No one knew he was the famous "Robin Hood" because most people hadn't seen him in person and the guards made sure to take away any distinguishing clothing. Plus he wasn't the cleanest of people after days on the road and in captivity. 

He stumbled after an unnecessary pull on the rope that bound his hands. Robin looked up towards the front of the procession. The King was at the lead with most of his men surrounding him. Richard seemed to at least heed Robin's warning, keeping his trusted men close. It also looked like Havershom had lost access to the King's confidence, which was good. But that was the least of Robin's problems. 

The Sheriff of Nottingham had met their party just outside the gates of London. His soldiers integrated seamlessly with the mercenaries, which didn't surprise Robin in the least. Now he was surrounded by more enemies than ever. 

When the Sheriff's party had met their own the Sheriff himself rode by Robin, nodding cordially in his direction. Robin wanted to punch the smug smile off of his face but there was nothing he could do, trussed up like a hare in a trap. But the worst was the feeling of betrayal when Sir Guy rode in right behind him. The man who had given Robin the tip couldn't even look him in the eye and Robin hated himself for feeling hurt that Guy hadn't told the truth. He should have known better, but he had let a part of himself hope. He wasn't going to make that mistake again. 

They were crossing the London bridge and the crowd forced them to go from four people abreast to only two. Robin noticed two of Havershom's men up ahead talking and throwing looks back his way. He frowned, not sure what they were up to. 

More and more citizens started to look at him as they passed and their gazes felt heavy. He heard the word 'murderer' passed around from person to person and every once in a while he thought he heard 'traitor.' Robin looked at his feet, trying to ignore the growing hostility. He felt his eyes start to burn from tears of anger and frustration that had no other outlet. All he wanted was to help these people! After everything he had been through and everything his people had suffered, the Sheriff couldn't win. But with every labored step it seemed that it was going to turn out just that way. 

Robin wasn't prepared for the first rotten fruit that slammed into his head. He stumbled sideways, shaking bits of produce off of his face. The guards didn't seem to care. They just kept tugging him along, only stepping in when it got so much that their comrades were in danger of getting hit, too. 

He clenched his fists and looked at the dried blood that crusted his skin. The soldiers wouldn't let him wash his hands, despite his frequent requests. Robin couldn't ignore the shouts of the crowd, some rejoicing at Richard's return and others directing anger towards him as the rumor of his crimes circulated. 

There was another tug of the rope and this time Robin had enough. He tugged back, almost yanking the entire thing out of the guard's hands. "I can walk," he said coldly and then straightened his shoulders. He pretended he couldn't feel the drying fruit juice on his face or the raw skin on his wrists, and he pretended he wasn't out of time. 

*RMRMRMRMR* 

"It wasn't long after you left, Majesty, that we started getting reports of robberies. We thought at first it was only your regular highwaymen, preying off innocent travelers. Personally I thought we would have the problem cleaned up in a matter of months at most." 

_I wonder how long he practiced this speech_ , Robin thought, the manacles on his wrists clinking together as he shifted on his wooden stool. His skin burned with the desire to jump up and stop the lies pouring out of the man's mouth, by any means necessary. But what with being chained and under suspicion of treason, he wasn't able to do much more than listen. The first time he had interrupted one of Havershom's men, in protest, he was hit soundly in the face by one of the guards. 

The Sheriff affected a mournful look. "I didn't realize we had a much bigger problem on our hands." He stood in front of the King's chair, hands clasped behind his back. King Richard, bathed, fed, and rested after his long journey looked every inch the royal even when not on his official throne in the grand hallway. Richard had ordered this trial be conducted in the small council chamber and held privately. 

Though "privately" apparently meant something different to a king than it did to Robin. This trial featured the Sheriff, Sir Guy, Captain Havershom, Brutus, King Richard, the king's personal page, the king's seneschal, and the royal scribe. Not to mention Robin himself, as the accused, and even more interestingly, Prince John. 

The royal sibling was seated to Richard's right in a slightly smaller chair. The two of them were placed on a dais. Robin's stool was on the floor, slightly to the left of the king's chair. One of the king's soldiers stood over him, holding a lethal looking spear. Robin hadn't seen this man yet but he was pretty certain the soldier knew how to use it. 

Prince John looked the perfect picture of polite interest. He lounged against the throne, his thin frame almost dwarfed by the larger chair. But his features were sharp and his eyes sharper, missing nothing. Neither of the brothers looked at each other but Robin couldn't detect any obvious hostility. The Sheriff hardly ever addressed the prince directly and there was nothing in Prince John's demeanor that would indicate a previous working relationship with Sheriff. Of course, Robin knew that didn't mean much. If they wanted to pull off regicide both of them would have to be perfect actors. The problem was, that meant it was going to be much harder to prove Robin's own case. 

"We kept receiving reports of thievery, moving from the woods and sometimes into the villages. He would terrorize the innocent, attacking in the middle of the night and slipping away before we could respond. It was no longer safe for anyone to travel through Sherwood. The only ones who made it through were armed escorts." 

Robin couldn't bear it. " _Terrorize_?" he said. "You're not one to talk about terrorizing the innocent," he spat. The soldier thumped him on the back of the head but Robin ignored him. "I never hurt anyone in those towns. To see who did that look in a mirror." 

"Quiet, traitor," Prince John interrupted languidly. He sounded bored. 

"You will have your chance to plead your case, Robin," King Richard said, not unkindly. "Until then, you must stay silent." 

The soldier tapped the butt of his spear on Robin's chest in warning. The Sheriff stood with his head bowed until the exchange was over but Robin could've sworn he saw a smirk. The Sheriff let the silence drag on for a moment or two more before continuing. "We were getting close to catching him. Almost got one of his accomplices once. Convicted in a fair trial but she slipped away before she could receive her punishment." 

Robin gritted his teeth. He locked his muscles in place so he wouldn't give this man the reaction he was clearly looking for. Then he looked across the room where the other "witnesses" were lined up and caught Guy's glance. He glared and felt a slight bit of satisfaction when Guy looked away. The light was coming in from the windows high above them, which gave him a good view of the guilt on the other man's face. 

"We were able to place someone on the inside and he told us about the plot to kill you, Your Majesty. I knew we were running out of time." He looked mournful when he added, "unfortunately we lost our man and no longer knew what he was planning. I assume Robin got rid of him because after we stopped receiving information we never saw him again." 

"No!" Robin yelled. The Sheriff was lying through his teeth and Robin despaired to see that he was doing in convincingly. "That's not what happened!" 

"Silence!" Richard barked. "If you cannot hold your tongue you will be sent back to your cell. Am I clear?" 

Robin settled back and nodded stiffly. He had already spent a few nights in the Tower of London and did not relish the thought of going back anytime soon. 

Richard accepted Robin's assent. "Good. Now, Sheriff, please continue." 

"Thank you, Your Majesty. Like I said, we were told about his plan to kill you. The only choice I thought we had was to draw him out. I set up an operation, sending out messengers to your soldiers in my employ in the guise of mercenaries. I knew it was too good of an opportunity for a bandit like him to pass up," he gestured in Robin's direction. "It worked. Thanks to the good work of the Captain and his men they convinced Hood they were on his side." 

Robin bowed his head, cursing and kicking himself silently. He should have known it was too easy, when Brutus just decided to bring him along without much convincing. He had let his guard down and this was the consequence. 

"Well, once you landed Majesty, you know the rest. He attempted to kill you and Collin stopped him. He killed Collin instead." Robin winced, knowing there was nothing he could deny about killing that man, even if the motives were completely different than what the Sheriff was claiming. 

Richard slowly tapped the arm of his chair. "Your informant never told you anything about why this man would want to commit treason?" 

The Sheriff shook his head. "No, my lord. I assume it was because he wanted to continue his thieving ways. He knew once you arrived it wouldn't be long until he was captured." 

"How did he get word of my arrival?" Richard asked. "We kept the landing location secret, meant only for specific people here in London." 

"I cannot say, Your Majesty. But it is conceivable he has informants everywhere. He's a sophisticated criminal." 

"Yes, he did manage to evade you for quite some time," Prince John quipped. He glanced meaningfully at his brother. "You almost didn't catch him in time to prevent it." 

"Please, brother, don't distress yourself overmuch at the possibility of my murder. Thankfully it was prevented," Richard said dryly. Robin raised an eyebrow at his tone but didn't say anything, conscious of the King's threat to put him back in his cell. 

"I am only doing my patriotic duty," the Sheriff said with another bow. 

"Hmmm," the King said, glancing at Robin. "Thank you. You may step aside. I think it's about time we hear from the prisoner." 

"Oh this should be good," Prince John muttered loud enough to carry across the room. 

Richard waved a hand and the guard behind Robin yanked him to his feet. He stumbled a bit and then jerked his arms out of the guard's grip, determined to walk and stand before King Richard on his own. 

Standing in the middle of the open floor before the monarch of the country with one chance to defend yourself against execution was slightly nerve wracking. He tried to wipe his palms on his breeches but that just brought attention to the fact his hands were bound. Robin licked his lips. He tried to ignore everyone else in the room and focus on the only man who could keep him alive. 

"My name is Robin of Locksely," he began. His voice was clear and strong, reaching to all corners of the room. "I became Robin Hood after the death of my parents. The Sheriff started raising the taxes, more and more every month. My people were starving or taken from their homes when they couldn't pay." 

"Taxes are the lifeblood of the realm," the Sheriff interrupted. "You're not the first noble to complain." 

"No," Robin answered, though he refused to look at the Sheriff. He was afraid he would lose his composure and he couldn't afford that. "But I didn't complain because I was losing money. I was protesting the inexorable murder of my people." 

"Eloquent," Prince John said with one eyebrow raised. "So you decided to break the law and steal from your king to put a little more meat on your peasants' bones? Do you expect us to applaud your heroism?" 

"I don't deny that I broke the law," Robin said, his voice brittle. "But I only stole what was necessary for them to live. So yes, I became an outlaw. That much is true. 

"But I never planned to kill you, Your Majesty. The Sheriff was. I was trying to stop him. The informant he supposedly had in my camp never learned of any plot. He simply told the Sheriff when and where we would try to get our money back. He told the Sheriff where our camp was. The Sheriff killed him too." Richard's face remained impassive and Robin's desperation grew. "We learned of his plot from someone on the inside. Our plan was to infiltrate the mercenaries and figure out their plan so we could stop it. The so-called captain Havershom was the man sent to carry out the Sheriff's plan. That night Collin died—" 

"The night you killed him," Havershom cut Robin off. This time Robin did look over, glaring at him. 

"Yes. The night I killed him was the night I thought they were going to kill you, Majesty. Collin attacked me. I didn't mean to kill him, I just wanted to stay alive long enough to make sure they couldn't get to you." 

Richard was silent, his gaze assessing. "Who told you about the Sheriff's plan?" 

It took everything in Robin to keep from looking to where Sir Guy was standing against the wall. As angry as he was with Sir Guy, a little part of him balked at giving anyone up, especially to the Sheriff. 

"Someone from inside the castle. I won't reveal their name, not while they are here. If I do, then our informant will probably be killed and I can't have that." 

The corner of Richard's mouth twitched slightly as if he was expecting Robin to say something like that. "If you won't give up your source, where is your other proof? These are serious accusations, Robin." 

"So is accusing me, but I didn't see any proof from them," Robin retorted. Richard's eyebrows shot up and Robin could have kicked himself for letting his anger go for a moment. 

"I saw you kill Colin myself," the king said. "I think that's a big step on the way to proof." 

"Colin was in on the plot," Robin said. How many times would he have to protest his innocence? 

"He doesn't have any proof," the Sheriff said from the side. "He's just stalling because he knows he's been caught." 

There was silence and Prince John finally spoke up. "Well? Is he right? Do you have the proof you claim?" 

Robin could feel their judgment settling on him like a weight. He had nothing to offer and the men in power held all the cards. What could he possibly do? 

"I don't have it," Robin said. "I thought…" raised voices outside the door distracted him for a moment but they were lowered quickly. "I thought I would have it by now, but I don't." The growing disappointment on the King's face made Robin's heart race in panic. "Please, Your Majesty, you have to believe me." 

Richard slowly rubbed his hand on his chin. The others in the room waited for his judgment. It was clear there was nothing more Robin could say. 

"I believe you never meant to kill that man," Richard said, expressing his thoughts with deliberation. "Like I said, I saw you that night and I know what it looks like when a man kills someone on purpose and that wasn't you." 

Robin raised his eyes to the King, letting the briefest flicker of hope flare. "But that's as far as I can go," Richard said. 

The solemnity in the king's voice crushed that flare and Robin could almost hear the iron door clanging shut on his freedom when Richard got to his feet. "Robin of Locksley. I, King Richard of England, hereby sentence—" 

The council hall doors slammed open, cutting off the king who was unable to initially hide his surprise. 

"King Richard of England!" 

Robin turned around and watched in shock as Marian marched across the floor, trailing flustered guards behind her. Her eyes blazed and her chin was lifted with purpose. She didn't seem to care one whit that she interrupted a private trial. In that moment she looked equal to King Richard himself. Her oak leaf medallion gleamed bronze against her white shirt and the mottled cloak billowed behind her. When she came to a stop next to Robin the fabric swirled around her ankles. But even when it settled, her outline seemed to blur and shift like she was still in motion. She was here and she was someone to be reckoned with. 

Marian bowed to the king but not one inch lower than was proper for a foreign visitor with authority. Prince John shifted in his chair and Robin noticed he didn't look surprised or offended. Instead he looked eager, like a fox that had found a bunny ready to come out of the warren. A warning went off in the back of his mind but most of his concentration was too focused on what was about to happen. 

Marian came out of her bow and fixed her eyes steadily on the king. "My name is Marian Harwood, King's Ranger. I am an ambassador to England and I have the proof you need to show Robin of Locksley is telling the truth." 


	23. Guilt and Innocence

There was a moment of stunned silence before it shattered in a flurry of voices. 

"What is the meaning of this?!" 

"My Lord, I apologize—" 

"Come with me, girl!" 

"Brother, perhaps—" 

"My lord you cannot possibly listen to this…this harlot!" 

Marian turned to the voice raised above all the others. The Sheriff had moved away from the wall and towards her, his face red with anger. 

Richard, who had remained silent amidst the turmoil, stiffened and turned to the Sheriff with a thunderous look but it was Marian who spoke first. 

"Insult me one more time, Sheriff, and it will be the last." She didn't realize it but her voice was so cold it burned, and everyone could feel it. Robin was glad it wasn't directed at him. 

The Sheriff quailed a moment but tried to cover it up. "How dare you! Is that a threat?" 

She was calm and quiet when she answered. "Absolutely" 

He wasn't expecting that. "Y-Your Majesty, you'll stand for this?" he sputtered. 

"Be quiet, Duval," the King snapped. The Sheriff opened his mouth but no sound came out and instead he slinked back to the wall. Not even he could go against a royal command like that. 

The voices subsided quickly after the King's burst of anger and Marian took a shaky breath, her nerves still tingling from the confrontation. She faced the King again, conscious of Robin next to her. She didn't dare look even an inch to her right to see him or she would lose her composure. The glimpse she saw of Robin with chains on his wrist and what looked like dried blood on his clothes had been bad enough. She couldn't afford to show her emotions if she was going to convince King Richard she was someone to be taken seriously. She needed to keep up the image of a competent official, someone with authority, if she was going to have a chance of freeing Robin. 

"First I must ask where you are an ambassador from Miss Harwood," Richard said to her with more calm than he had addressed the Sheriff with. "It's highly irregular that a foreign diplomat comes to my court without notice." 

"It is irregular for me to do so, Majesty," she replied. She acted like Robin wasn't even there, speaking as if she was received only by the King and not by an entire tribunal. "I have letters of introduction from my king, but I'm afraid the rest should be discussed in private." 

Richard tilted his head to the side. "Let me see this letter," he beckoned with an outstretched hand. Marian bowed and withdrew a sealed piece of parchment from a small carry-bag on her belt. She had kept it safe for a moment much like this, though she guessed Duncan couldn't foresee this particular situation arising. She handed it to the King's steward to deliver to the King and then clasped her hands behind her, waiting. 

The King cracked the seal, the sound carrying across the now silent room. He scanned the letter only raising his eyebrows in surprise. As soon as he finished he looked up and caught a guard's eye, the one who was standing uncomfortably next to Marian. "Let no one enter or leave this room," he ordered. "Not one, am I clear? We are not to be interrupted until this is sorted." 

The man bowed and then barked orders at the men behind him. There was a slight flush creeping up his neck, probably from embarrassment for letting her through the doors. Marian felt a slight twinge of guilt for getting him in trouble, but it had been necessary and she would do it again. 

"Michael, come with me and Misstress Harwood," Richard said to his steward. Turning he beckoned Marian with a slight crook of his fingers. She followed him onto the dais, brushing Robin's hand with hers as she passed just to let him know he had her support, but she didn't look at him. She didn't want to seem too close in case they accused her of bias. 

Marian followed the king and Michael behind the thrones and towards a smaller door set back into alcove. She felt everyone's eyes on her back and resisted the urge to draw up the hood of her cloak. It was almost a relief when Michael shut the door of the much smaller meeting room behind him, cutting them off from the rest of the crowd. 

Even though it was small, the room was quite welcoming. A dark-cherry wood desk was placed directly across from her and facing the door. The red carpet went almost from wall to wall and a small fireplace was nestled into the left corner of the room. A short bookshelf stood to the right of the desk, flush against the back wall. It was a room put to much use and designed to be as comfortable as possible. 

As King Richard settled into the chair behind the desk, Marian noticed the legs of the furniture transformed into lion's paws and thought it fitting. He assessed Marian over folded hands, much like a cat deciding whether or not to pounce. Michael took his place behind the king's right shoulder. He was an older man, thin with a sharply angled face. He had close-cropped sandy blond hair and light blue eyes that betrayed nothing of his thoughts. He held himself proud and erect, holding a perfect posture. Marian would bet he didn't tolerate any laziness in his staff and was probably one of the main reasons a castle of this size could run as well as it did. 

Richard slid the parchment across the desk. "You expect me to believe this?" 

"I know how it sounds, Your Majesty," Marian said. "But if I need to lie, I try to tell ones that will be believed." 

The corner of the king's mouth rose and he raised a hand to cover the smile. "That is generally a good practice." 

"My lord, if I may, it's preposterous," Michael said. "It's like…magic. Magic doesn't exist. I don't know what you're playing at, girl, but there are consequences to what you are doing." 

"I would be inclined to agree," Marian interjected, before the King could say anything. "But there are always things we cannot explain. And I can prove it. I can show you where I came through, if we had the time to ride to Sherwood. Which we do not, yet. Not if you want to live and stop the traitors who are close to you." 

"Convenient," Michael said dryly. 

"Well, not really," she responded. "I need you to believe me. You have an easier time believing me if the gateway was close by. Since it's not, you are much more skeptical, which means I have to rely on your judge of character." Marian looked the King square in the eyes, taking a bit of a gamble. "I hope that reliance is not misplaced." 

Michael frowned at her as if what she claimed was personally offensive. Richard stroked his chin, and Marian waited. "Let me see the evidence you have" he said. 

Marian's heart lifted for a moment while Michael stared at his king, incredulous. "Majesty, you can't be serious!" 

"I'm not saying I believe her, Michael," Richard waved his hand. "But regardless I am interested to see what she thinks she has that would clear Robin of Locksley." 

Her momentary triumph was quickly stifled but she reached into her cloak and placed the ledger and letters on the table in front of the king. She told herself he didn't have to believe where she came from, as long as she believed Robin was innocent. She could deal with whatever came afterwards if only Robin was set free. 

"I found this in the Sheriff's room, in a hidden compartment," she said. Richard raised an eyebrow as he reached across and picked up the ledger. 

"You broke into his room?" 

"I doubt he would hand it over if I asked," she answered, not the least bit apologetic. 

The noise Michael made would have been a snort in a less dignified person but he didn't say anything else. Instead he waited while Richard drew out the letters, the frown on his face deepening has he read the missives Marian had found. Once he was through, Richard slowly placed the loose pieces of paper on the table and began to leaf through the book. She saw the muscle in his jaw jump as he turned the pages. 

"It's a record of all the money he is stealing," She said, even though he appeared to have figured that out. "It's either going straight into his pocket or going to the people he is paying to kill you. I'm sure if you look at the royal accounts you'll find the payments don't match up." 

"No need," Richard said. There was a distinct chill to his voice now as he handed the book to Michael. "Michael? Is she right?" 

The steward flipped through the pages. Marian raised her eyebrows, questioning. The king noticed and commented, "he has a gift for memorization. He'll be able to tell us if the numbers don't match up, without having to wait for the Treasurer." He didn't have to say that they would find out if she was lying here and now, she knew that's what he thought. But Marian held his gaze because she had nothing to fear. 

"She's right," Michael said softly. "This column, here," he held out the open book for the king to look at. "It's the exact difference between what we have recorded in our ledger and the total sum in this column." He moved his finger to the left hand side of the page. 

Marian looked anxiously between the two men as the King studied the book. "I will not stand for this," he said and she struggled to keep a smile from her face. "He will be arrested." 

Richard looked at her again. "But this only proves theft, Miss Harwood—" 

"Ranger," she interrupted. 

"Excuse me?" Richard asked, surprised at the interruption. 

"My official title is Ranger Harwood, Majesty," she said respectfully. It was a gamble to interrupt a king but she needed to establish herself as a dignitary. 

Michael looked completely offended on his king's behalf but Richard seemed to find it amusing. "Ranger Harwood. This isn't enough to prove treason. Or to show Robin is innocent." 

Marian felt her elation drain away. "But, the letters—" 

"Are not in his hand, nor do they bear his signature," he interrupted firmly. "You say you found these in Duval's rooms but how am I to believe you? And before you say you have credentials remember how incredible your credentials seem." 

"The Sheriff is the one trying to kill you," Marian said. "Robin Hood been the one keeping your kingdom together while you've been away!" 

Richard drew himself up slowly and Marian instantly regretted what she said. If she wanted to save Robin this wasn't how she was going to do it. 

"My apologies, King Richard," she said, clenching her hands behind her back, "for the outburst. I simply wish to show you the truth." 

"I do not know how you speak to your own king," Richard said. "But in England the king is afforded a bit more respect than you've shown." 

She simply nodded, looking just over the king's shoulder so she wouldn't have to bare the full force of his anger. Marian could feel her cheeks heating but she didn't dare do or say anything in response. Robin's life depended on the king listening to her and if she spoke she would just make it worse. 

The tension that had built in the room snapped when there was a knock on the door. Three heads turned as the door opened without waiting for a response from the king. "I thought I said we were not to be interrupted!" Marian could detect the tight hold on Richard's patience fraying and she was curious to see who would chance the king's wrath. 

Sir Guy stepped in and shut the door behind him. He looked like he was going to be sick. Marian stared openly and turned to face him, forgetting to hide her reaction. "What are you doing?" she asked. 

Guy ignored her and instead bowed to Richard. "There is something I have to say, Your Majesty." 

They waited and Richard tapped his fingers on the desk. "What is it you have to say that is so important Sir Gisbourne?" 

Guy swallowed and licked his lips a few times, as if the words were stuck in this throat. His eyes darted towards Marian and away again. 

"Hood is innocent." 

Stunned silence. Marian's mouth dropped open and she felt a shift in the air as Richard and Michael tensed behind her. 

"What did you say?" Richard asked. 

Guy shifted uncomfortably. "Hood is innocent. The Sheriff is framing him for treason." 

"How do you know this?" 

"Because I helped him do it." 

Marian couldn't believe it. "You what?" her voice cracked through the air and Guy flinched. 

"Well, I helped him take the extra taxes. I didn't know what he was using it for, I swear," he told the king desperately. "When I found out he was using them to pay assassins I tried to warn Hood. I thought he could do something about it." 

"Why should we believe you?" Michael asked. Marian glanced over her shoulder at the king, who was staring at Guy with a look that would make even the staunchest of men quake in their boots. 

"Why would I lie if it implicated me as well?" Guy asked. 

The room was quiet. "Is this enough evidence for you?" Marian asked. 

Richard braced his hands on the desk and bowed his head. "All right. Michael, I want them arrested. Lock up the Sheriff and Captain Havershom. Check into his credentials, everything. I will know what is going on." 

Michael bowed, his face grim. "Yes, my lord." 

Marian didn't dare let herself hope quite yet. "And Robin?" 

Richard looked up at her. She met his gaze steadily. "Free him." 

She could have almost laughed in relief, until she saw Guy standing there uncertain and afraid but trying not to show it. "What about me, my lord?" he asked. 

"I will deal with you later," he answered in a considerably colder tone. "You did the right thing speaking up, but we will need to assess what you have done in the past before I can pronounce a judgment." 

Guy nodded stiffly. Marian wished he would look at her so she could convey some sense of gratitude but he refused to even glance in her direction. 

Michael walked around the desk and towards the door, brushing past both Marian and Guy without a word. The king was gathering up the letters and book Marian had brought when Michael opened the chamber door to return to the Council Hall. 

There was a dull smack and then Michael crumpled to the floor. Marian whirled in surprise and Guy stumbled back to reveal the grinning Captain Havershom. He held his sword, hilt out, and then tossed it into his other hand. Michael was out cold, a bump already starting to swell on his forehead. 

"It looks like the meeting is adjourned," he said. Havershom pointed the sword at Guy, the point almost touching his chest. Guy backed up step for step as Havershom entered the small room, stepping over Michael with barely a thought. 

Marian shifted into a battle-ready stance and angled herself in front of the King. Part of her mind started turning with thoughts of what might have happened out in the Council Hall while the other part was calculating the distance between her and the mercenary assassin. She had no weapons, having been forced to give them up before she could get this far into the castle. Havershom was supposed to be weaponless too, but apparently that was no longer the case. 

"You dare attack your King?" Richard growled. 

Havershom shrugged. "It's good money. I could care less about kings as long as I've got the funds for a warm bed, good ale, and maybe a woman or two to lie next to. With what I'm getting from this job I could live like a king myself." 

"Guards!" Richard's voice boomed. It was a voice for a battlefield and she was sure someone would hear it. 

"Don't bother," Havershom said. "No one is out there who can help you and by the time your faithful servants do arrive you'll be dead and I'll be long gone." 

Marian glared, stepping as he did to keep herself between the weapon and its target. They had gotten this far. If someone killed the king now it would all be for nothing. "Easy now. You haven't finished the job," she taunted. "I wouldn't start counting your coins just yet." 

Havershom looked at her, his sword still pointed ahead of him. Marian backed up a step and felt the hard edge of the desk dig into her back. She felt Richard's presence looming behind her and looking to her right she saw Guy had pressed himself against the wall as far as he could, hiding behind the face of the open door which had swung inward and blocked Havershom's view. 

"You know, I wouldn't mind if you counted some of those coins with me," Havershom drawled. "Smile a little bit more and put on something a little less concealing and you could be quite fetching." 

Marian entertained thoughts of shooting an arrow at him from full draw in this small room to keep her control. What she needed was to distract him so she could get the weapon away from him. Richard had just come back from war so she knew he could probably handle the situation. But she was determined to even the playing field just a bit. 

"Wow," she said, her voice brimming with sarcasm. "With lines like those I'm surprised you even have to pay for companionship. They should at least give you a discount." She groped behind her for something on the desk she could possibly use to help her while she kept up the banter. 

He was not amused by her retort. "Think your funny? Well, after I've finished this job I think I'll deal with you for my employer, free of charge. And I'll take my time." 

Her fingers brushed the cool, solid surface of an inkwell. Marian was careful to keep her face clear and unreadable. "That's quite generous of you," she answered, as her hand closed on what was now her weapon. "You might want to be careful, or you'll become a common murderer instead of high-class assassin. I'm told there is a difference." 

His eyes flashed and when he smiled there was no warmth at all. "Oh, yes, I'm going to make you bleed. Just wait until— _aaghh_!" 

Marian flung the ink well in his face, making sure the ink that was still inside flew straight into his eyes. She followed its trajectory and ducked under Havershom's wild swing, while he tried to wipe the ink away with his other hand. He was still fumbling when she latched on to the wrist of his sword hand. She twisted so she could pull him over her shoulder and fling him to the floor. But as soon as she grabbed his wrist, Havershom stopped struggling with the ink on his face and wrapped his free arm around her neck. 

Marian kept hold of the sword arm. She knew if he got it free he could easily slit her throat. Instead she pushed herself back into his chest, driving the two of them into the wall. Havershom grunted with the impact, but his hold on her didn't loosen. Marian tried again and this time it loosened just enough for her to wrench around and slam his sword arm against the stone. His hand opened and the weapon fell to the floor. 

Her breath left her in a whoosh as he kneed her in the stomach. Marian doubled over and stumbled. Then Havershom kicked her and she fell back against the unforgiving corner of the desk. She gasped from the sudden flash of pain in her side and her vision blurred for a moment. Shaking her head Marian tried to push the burning ache to the back of her mind. Part of her brain alerted her one of her ribs might be fractured but most of her attention was focused on Havershom, who had recovered his sword. 

Marian crouched to protect her bruised right side. She had no weapon to defend herself with. She looked to find Guy but her heart fell when she realized his hiding space was empty. He must have taken the chance to leave when he had it. 

"That was stupid," Havershom said. He sounded winded and she felt a bit of triumph. "Stupid and useless." He stepped closer to her, within perfect striking range, and she saw his muscles tense. Marian knew he was going to swing the sword but she couldn't move out of the way fast enough. 

A harsh clang sounded just when she was expecting the bite of steel in her flesh. Havershom's weapon stopped short mere inches from her neck, blocked by another sword. Marian glanced up over her left shoulder and saw Richard, wielding a two-handed sword like it weighed nothing. His muscles bunched under his clothing and he angled his weapon, forcing Havershom to step back. 

His glare was cold and stony. She saw no hesitation there, no uncertainty. Now more than ever she could see the man who had gone through the worst of hells and back and kept his crown throughout it all. This was a man who had survived war and would be damned if anything less claimed his life now. 

"I expect you know the sentence for treason," he told Havershom, stepping around the desk and in front of Marian. "Thank you for the assistance Ranger Harwood. It was just enough to get my bearings. But if you please, as King, this is my affair and I will carry out the judgment." 

He said this without looking back at her and Marian slipped out of the way, huddling next to the end the desk, trying to give him as much room as possible. Her body was tense, as if it thought she was still doing battle, but she knew she couldn't intervene. The screech of steel on steel signaled the start of the fight and she watched with helpless anxiety. She couldn't look away even if she wanted to. One misstep and England's destiny would be altered forever. 

Despite the situation, she couldn't help but be amazed as she watched. Her mastery was with a bow and arrow. Theirs were with swords. They each clearly knew what they were doing and took pride in being masters of their craft. Strike, parry, strike, parry—they didn't miss a beat. It was a dance on the knife's edge between them. But she could definitely tell a difference in style. Havershom was used to being sneaky, playing dirty and doing the unexpected. Richard's style was perfect for the battlefield. No dressy or underhanded moves, they were simple but effective. 

Both men were working up a sweat and she could see Havershom was starting to think this job might not be as easy as he thought. Well, he hadn't been expecting a face-to-face confrontation with someone who was prepared to fight back. 

They disengaged and circled each other as much as was possible in the small room. Swift as a hawk, Richard lunged. Havershom sidestepped neatly and deflected the sword. He spun to bring his own weapon around on the king's unprotected back. Marian sucked in a breath but Richard knew the move and and turned just in time. He locked hilts with the man and stepped in close so he could use his height and muscle to his advantage. 

Both men were motionless, locked together until one of them should break. "Captain Havershom," Richard grunted through gritted teeth. "I declare you guilty of treason and sentence you to death." 

"Long live the King," Havershom sneered. Then he let go of the sword and dropped to the ground, rolling. Not expecting the sudden absence of resistance Richard fell forward, off balance. Havershom came up on a crouch close to the desk and Marian saw the glint of metal as he drew something out of the top of his boot. 

"No!" she cried and flung herself across the top of the desk to the other side. She slid across the surface and barreled into him, knocking him to the ground. But the knife had already flown. 

Havershom heaved beneath her and then she was falling onto her back. Her side flared with pain again as she hit the floor but she ignored it, rolling away to get to her feet before he recovered. 

Marian heard a sickening wet, ripping sound and froze. When nothing attacked her, she pushed herself to a sitting position and turned. Havershom's face looked up at her in cold, dead shock. Blood soaked the carpet, the beautiful red fabric darkening under the spreading stain, pooling in the space between Havershom's head and the rest of his body. 

She looked up, not quite sure she could stand yet, and saw King Richard bent over the hilt of his sword, which he held point down into the floor. The blade was coated in blood and Marian's stomach churned as she thought she saw a couple of hairs stuck in it. A string of blood dripped down the side of the weapon and she watched it plop silently onto the carpet. 

When the king raised his head and met her gaze he looked haunted for a moment. Then he put his shoulders back and straightened, determined to hold up the invisible weight of the crown. 

With increasing anxiety Marian looked him over for a wound the throwing knife had surely inflicted. The corner of the king's mouth turned up as he caught on to what she was doing. "Don't worry," he said. He sounded exhausted but was much warmer towards her than he had been. "You hit him just in time to throw off his aim and your shout warned me. I should thank you." 

Marian shook her head. "There is no need to thank me." She pushed herself to her feet and winced as the pain in her ribs came flooding back in full force, now that her adrenaline was draining. "Anyone would have done the same." 

"Clearly not," Richard answered drily. He frowned when he saw her favoring her side. "Are you all right?" 

"I'm fine." She took shallow breaths and forced herself to stand straight. The danger wasn't over yet. "But we have to get going. There may be more waiting. There was another one of Havershom's men in that room with the Sheriff." Cold panic washed over her as she remembered Robin had been in that same room, shackled and defenseless next to traitors and a man who hated him. 

She rushed outside the room, stepping over the fallen steward with a silent apology, and stopped short when she reached the edge of the dais. The two thrones were empty and there was a guard lying face down on the flagstones. She could see the edges of a dark stain underneath his body, and he was completely still. The doors at the end of the hallway were wide open, letting a draft into the empty, echoing room. Everyone was gone. 


	24. Search or Rescue

He didn't think it would end like this. Here in this tiny, domed room lying on the floor, struggling to breathe. He knew he would fall asleep before the smoke killed him so at least it would be painless. Still, he had always assumed his death would be a bit more…abrupt. 

Robin pressed his face to the small line between the door and floor, curling his body around his raw and throbbing hands. He pretended to himself he could taste the slightest hint of fresh air that was supposed to seep through the door. It was a lie; the chamber had been carefully constructed so the smoke pouring in from the hole in the floor had nowhere else to go. Whoever had crafted the thick, oak slab had made sure it fit so snugly against the stone wall that not a wisp of the dark grey smoke leaked out. 

It was actually kind of mesmerizing. A faint orange glow emanated from the hole in the floor. The lift made shapes in the languidly swirling smoke. He could feel his eyes drifting closed but the burning in his lungs kept him awake as he coughed. It was dry and rasping and coughing hurt more than breathing did. But he had to get rid of the smoke somehow. His lungs hurt less than the burning metal manacles on his wrists. Heat was pumped in along with the smoke and Robin almost hoped he passed out before he had to experience the smell of his own flesh burning. 

At first he had searched chamber from top to bottom for some way to escape, but it didn't take long. The room was so small he couldn't have stood up straight even if he wanted to. He couldn't pick the lock because one, he had no tools and two, there wasn't even a lock to pick. The door locked from the outside with a large wooden beam. Robin had even briefly considered trying the hole where the smoke was coming from until he realized it was only about as wide as one leg, so that option was out. Robin closed his eyes and pressed his cheek to the stone floor, which was already loosing its chill. 

He could imagine the feel of Marian's fingers as they brushed his hand back in the council hall. He wished had had said something to her before she walked into the meeting room with King Richard. He couldn't have known what was going to happen, somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that, but right now he couldn't be rational with himself. 

Once that door had shut behind her and Guy followed, leaving Robin alone with the conspirators, he knew something was going to happen. Prince John rose from his own chair and said, "Well, it seems my dear brother has everything under control. You gentlemen have your orders." 

He swept out of the room like he was already the king and Robin had the sneaking suspicion he wasn't talking about Richard's orders. 

"You have to let me go," Robin murmured to the guard. The man just looked at him and chuckled. 

"Not quite yet, bud." 

"No you don't understand," he whispered urgently. "You're in danger, you have to let me go." 

"Shut it," the guard said, losing patience. "I told you, no." He looked back towards the main doors. There were some raised voices, but Robin didn't have time to wonder what was going on. 

"Listen to me! Something is wrong. You can't trust these guys." 

The guard rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I heard you the first time. Just be patient and—" 

Robin jerked backwards as blood sprayed from the guard's throat. He hadn't even noticed Brutus come up behind them. Brutus wiped the knife on his pants, grinning. Robin turned to warn the king but came up short when he felt the cold prick of a knife just under his ear. 

"Not so fast," the Sheriff crooned. "One move, one squeak and you'll end up like your friend on the floor." 

His legs gave out when the Sheriff kicked him and he dropped to the floor, his knees stinging when they hit the flagstones. He saw Brutus rip a piece of cloth from the dead man's shirt and then walk over. He roughly tied the cloth around Robin's mouth. Robin jerked back instinctively. He felt a sting and then a warm trickle as blood oozed down his neck. He could hear the muffled shouts and clang of swords outside the door. Havershom's men had made it inside. 

"You shouldn't have moved," the Sheriff shrugged. "Brutus, make sure he stays put. Havershom, time to earn that last payment." 

"Who the hell put you in charge?" Havershom said, walking over and taking the dead guard's weapon. He held it up to the light, inspecting it. 

"Since I'm the one paying you, I'm the one in charge," the Sheriff said crisply. "Feel free to have a little fun with the girl once your target is dead." 

Robin lunged towards the Sheriff, who was smiling at him, but he was yanked back by his chains. He yelled, trying to get the sound past his gag but it did no good. 

The Sheriff never took his eyes from Robin's face as he called out. "Oh, and Havershom?" The captain looked at the Sheriff. "Make sure you kill everyone in that room." 

His heart plummeted when Havershom saluted and then moved towards the meeting room. Everyone in there was completely unaware of the danger just on the other side of the door. They were going to fail. 

"Brutus, bring our friend and come with me." Brutus yanked Robin to his feet, and was going to drag him whether Robin cooperated or not so Robin got his footing and walked of his own volition. The doors to the chamber banged open and there were the rest of the mercenaries, some with their weapons already bloodied. 

"Hold on there, Sheriff," Brutus said. "You ain't goin' nowhere until we get our payment." The others spread out into a semi-circle, appearing nonchalant but Robin could sense their readiness. Any escape the Sheriff was planning was effectively shut down. 

The Sheriff knew his options were limited and his eyes darted to each of the men in the circle. "One way or another, no one will be getting any money if we don't get out of this castle. You can either get paid your pittance now, or come with me." 

"You're calling what you owe us a pittance?" Brutus said. "Well ain't you the fancy britches." 

"It's a pittance compared to what you might get, if you listen to me," he answered. "You are men of opportunity. You know how to turn gambles into profit. I have plans, gentlemen. Plans greater then what my benefactor has put in motion. Come with me, follow _my_ orders and you may will live richer than the King of England himself." 

Robin's stomach clenched with dread. He didn't know what the Sheriff was planning but he could see the others considering it. 

"What about the Captain?" Brutus asked. 

The Sheriff cocked his head. "What about him? He'll get his dues. But you must be tired living under his shadow. Come with me and you won't have to deal with him again. It will be a whole new life." 

Silence. Time was ticking away and the Sheriff had to have known his opportunity to escape was closing quickly. But he stood there, cool and unhurried like he had all the time in the world to bargain. 

"And this one?" he shook Robin's arm and the chains holding his wrists clanked together. "Why don't we just kill 'im now and get it over with?" 

Robin stared down his enemy trying to hide the fact that his heart was racing. He had no way to defend himself. If the Sheriff decided to kill him now, there was no stopping it. 

"We need a little extra insurance," the Sheriff answered. The tone in his voice sent a chill down Robin's spine. He didn't know what that meant and he was sure he didn't want to. So, they had dragged him to the Tower, where he had experienced the hospitality of the castle's prison guards the last few nights. But they didn't bring him to a cell. Instead they brought him to this room, built like an upside-down, oversized bowl. He didn't understand until the Sheriff pointed out the oven built in below the floor and he realized there was no chimney. 

"So you can contemplate the circumstances of your own death," the Sheriff informed him, patting him on the shoulder. "I do hope you are acutely aware of the hopelessness of your situation while you suffocate under the smoke. I only regret that I'm not able to feel your life leave you with my own two hands." 

In a last-ditch desperate attempt, Robin wrenched himself free of Brutus' grip and threw himself at the Sheriff. His hands may be chained but he still managed to gouge a few good furrows in the Sheriff's face with his nails. The Sheriff shouted but it took three of the other men to drag Robin away. 

The Sheriff stood and faced Robin, hate burning in his eyes. The blood that ran down his face made him look slightly monstrous and far from the controlled image he so often projected. He was breathing a bit heavily and suddenly Robin was very afraid. The Sheriff extracted a belt knife, slowly. Then he grabbed one of Robin's hands, placed the point of the knife just under one of the fingernails, and shoved. 

Robin screamed as white-hot fire raced up his arm and into his whole body. He would have fallen if Brutus and the other mercenaries weren't holding him up. He could feel his finger pulsing with the beat of his heart but all other sensations were drowned out by the pain. The Sheriff took his other hand and did it again, and then again, twice more on each hand. Groaning, he held his bleeding and shredded fingers close to his chest but the pain went on and on in waves. 

Brutus sighed. "Finished? It's your own fault he scratched you, you know." 

"Well now he won't be able to do it again." The Sheriff wiped the knife on the shoulder of Robin's shirt. Then he leaned in and whispered in Robin's ear. "I would like to see how you hold up under the lash. Your little sweetheart was quite stubborn when it came to that device." 

He looked up into the Sheriff's eyes and, for the first time he could remember, truly felt what it was to hate someone. "I will kill you," he promised, snarling through the pain. 

"Ah, that's problematic, since it seems I'm the one who is killing you." The Sheriff backed away and nodded to one of the men. "Light it." 

"Finally," Brutus exhaled and then tossed Robin into the chamber. Without thinking Robin held out his hands to break his fall and cried out when they hit the floor. He rolled onto his back and tried to keep his hands as still as possible. They were sticky and wet but he couldn't cover them with his shirt without crying in pain. As he lay there he heard the heavy door creak shut and the thud of the bar dropping into place. 

Once Brutus got the fire going, the glow from the fire underneath the floor illuminated the room enough to show Robin exactly how bad his situation was. There looked to be some sort of hatch at the top of the dome but it was sealed shut. He tried to bang on the door, even with his battered hands, and shout to whoever might be out there. But both wood and stone were too thick and no one came to answer. With each passing minute the smoke rose languidly in the air and drifted up towards the ceiling, hanging there like bits of cloud. It didn't take long for the smoke to thicken and drift downward towards the floor. It burned his nostrils and seared his throat. That's when he moved towards the door, the one possible place he could conceivably find fresh air. He knew it was useless. He didn't even know if the King was still alive, if Marian was still alive. 

_Stop it_ , he ordered himself. He had to believe she was out there. He had to believe that, after all this, they hadn't failed. Even if he couldn't make it, the King would be safe. If Marian was still alive then his people were in good hands. If he believed that, then maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he just closed his eyes for a little while and slept. Besides, maybe this way was easier. He wouldn't have to figure out what to do when the time came for her to back to her home. He wouldn't have to figure out what to say. As the smoke became as thick as heavy fog and his body started to shut down to conserve energy while it struggled for oxygen he could feel himself finally drifting. Yes, this way might be better. 

*RMRMRMRMR* 

Marian ran down the hallways, ignoring her aching ribs and the startled looks from servants and nobles alike. The castle was filled with people and so many of them were oblivious to what had happened. But she didn't care. She didn't have the time. She needed to find the Sheriff before he escaped. She couldn't, she _wouldn't_ , let him get away this time. 

The need to find him, punish him, and make him accountable for everything he had done burned through her like fire. Her body wouldn't stay still. It didn't matter she had no idea where he was, all she could do was run. The thought she refused to acknowledge was if she lost the Sheriff she might also lose Robin. The Sheriff was her only way of getting Robin back. 

Marian retraced her steps through the castle, heading towards the main doors, dodging around chatting couples and harried pages. There were a few angry shouts when she couldn't avoid running in to someone, but they were quickly lost behind her in the warren of the castle halls. Her best guess was the stables, for that was where the horses were and the horses were the Sheriff's best chance of escape. 

Marian burst through the doors, halting at the top of the stone stairway. It was the middle of the day and a steady stream of people were coming and going through the open portcullis. The sun was high and she squinted, blinking away the sunspots in her vision. Carts rumbled over the flagstones. Livestock lowed and people shouted, adding to the general cacophony of the courtyard. She didn't know where the Sheriff was, but there was one way she could prevent his escaping. 

She raced down the steps and threaded her way through the people. When she reached the guards stationed at the gate, she grabbed the arm of the younger man. Startled, he jerked his arm away. "What are you doing?" 

"You have to shut the gate," she said. The man next to him, checking a sheaf of papers while a miller stood in line impatiently, scoffed but didn't look up from his task. 

"Why must we shut the gate?" he asked slowly, as if she was a small child and he was playing along with her game. 

"Listen, I don't have time for this," she snapped, her final thread of patience shredding. "Someone just tried to kill the king and his conspirators are loose in the castle. I'm trying to find them but you have lock this place down _now!_ " 

The guard she was talking to paled and his partner snapped his head up. "Who are you? How do you know this? This is a serious matter, you'll need to be questioned." 

"Yes, thank you. I gathered that when I was almost killed," Marian glared at him. "I don't have time to answer your questions, I have to find the Sheriff of Nottingham before he gets away. King Richard is in the council hall if you don't believe me, go ask him about it." 

"You should come with me," the one with the papers reached out to grab her arm and Marian, fed up, grabbed his arm and bent his wrist back. He tried to twist to lessen the pressure but she had practiced this hold many times. One move and the bones would break. Marian leaned in close, conscious now of the bubble of silence that surrounded them and their astonished onlookers. 

"Listen to me very carefully," she said. "I am on your side. I cannot let this man get away. Not only did he try to kill the king, but he also has someone I care about very much who is in danger. You will not get in my way. Am I clear?" 

The man nodded, his skin turning a slight shade of grey. Marian saw a bead of sweat trickle down the side of his face while she kept the pressure on a few more moments. When she let up the guard stepped back quickly out of her reach, rubbing his wrist. He scowled but didn't try to detain her any further. 

He turned back to the miller and started ushering him and the others in line behind him away from the entrance. "We're closing the gates!" he shouted. "Everyone move back!" Marian heard some grumbling and shouted complaints but she paid no attention. 

"If the Sheriff comes to the gates, detain him," she told the first guard. "He may have men with him so be alert." 

"Do you have a description, ma'am?" the man asked. 

"He has black hair and a black beard, balding on the top. He has blue eyes and is about so high," she estimated, holding her palm out flat about a foot above her own head. When she saw the guard's eyes widen slightly her stomach sank. 

"You've seen him," she stated. 

The soldier licked his lips and he looked like someone who had just made the biggest mistake of his life. "He went through not five minutes ago. Had a big man with him and a few others I assumed were men at arms. He had papers, I didn't realize…" 

The huge gears that raised and lower the portcullis started to groan and creak as the men in the guardhouse began to unwind the chains and lower the gate. They still had to close it, in case some more of Havershom's mercenaries were still in the castle. If she was going to go after the Sheriff it had to be now, or he would be gone for good. 

"Hold the gates!" she called out. The gears squealed to a stop and the heavy iron bars halted halfway down. She turned back to the guard. "Tell me, did he have Robin Hood with him?" she asked desperately frustrated by his blank look. "A prisoner, did they have a prisoner with them? He would be about my age, brown hair and brown eyes, slim with freckles." 

The guard shook his head. "I'm sorry ma'am, there was no one like that with them. Certainly no prisoner, or they would have been questioned longer." 

If the Sheriff didn't have Robin that would mean… _No_. She refused to think like that. She couldn't or she might break down then and there. If she left now she might be able to catch up with him and then she would make him tell her. She would make him pay. There was just enough time to leave before the gates were shut. 

Marian looked out at the open road beyond the gate, but something held her back. If Robin was alive, how long would he stay that way? There had to be a reason the Sheriff didn't keep him prisoner and if Robin had escaped she would've known by now. Yet, without the Sheriff, she was completely at a loss of where to look. 

"Wait!" the guard said, snapping his fingers as something dawned on him. "I remember, he left a message for someone called Marian, if she came looking for him." He picked up the sheaf of papers his partner had been holding and rifled through them, drawing out a torn piece of parchment and handing it to her. A short message was scrawled on it, 

_Me or him. Your choice._

Marian stared at the paper, which trembled slightly in her hands as the message sank in. 

"Are we closing the gates or not?" one of the men shouted. "We can't hold them forever!" 

She knew what the message meant. If she looked for Robin the Sheriff would get away, possibly for good. Every fiber in her called for retribution against him. She needed to bring him to justice. She needed revenge. But she knew now, with a cold, sick certainty if she went after the Sheriff, Robin would die. He could still die even if she let the Sheriff escape. It was a gamble, one or the other, and the Sheriff was betting she would pick Robin and play right into his hand. He was so close, she knew, and she could beat him. If she left now, he was done for—and Robin would be dead. 

She crushed the paper in her fist clutching it until her knuckles turned white. There was only one choice for her. "Close the gates," she called out. The gears resumed and the portcullis came down with a crash, severing her tenuous lead on the Sheriff for good. Marian closed her eyes, feeling her grip on him snap. She was done, she had do be. Her pursuit would be taken up on another day. For now, she had someone else to look for. 

Marian opened her eyes and let the paper tumble to the ground. "There may still be assassins in the castle, don't let anyone leave," she ordered the guard, who snapped to attention and nodded. 

"What are you going to do?" he asked. 

"There is someone I need to find," she answered, already sifting through her mind for possible places to look. The castle was huge and if her instincts were right she didn't have a lot of time. Despair washed over her as Marian looked up at the towering structure, imagining all the empty rooms and winding passages she could possibly look. 

_Stop it_ , she told herself. _You can do this. What's the most logical place to hide a prisoner?_

"Marian!" a shout drew her attention to a figure running towards them at full tilt. 

"What in hell are you doing here?" she snapped at Sir Guy as he came to a stop in front of her. He was breathing hard and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. "Shouldn't you be out of the city by now?" 

His eyes flashed in anger but he ignored her jibe. "I know where Hood is." 

Her heart skipped. "What?" 

"After Havershom came into the room, I slipped out and followed the Sheriff. I wanted," he shrugged. "Well, I wanted to make sure he wasn't coming after me. I saw where they took him." 

"Where is it?" she asked, grabbing his arm in anxiety. 

He gave her a look she couldn't quite decipher. "We have to hurry." 

Marian nodded and then followed him back into the inner depths of the palace. They went upward, taking staircase after staircase. Eventually the amount of people they passed trickled away until the only things Marian could hear were their labored breaths and soft patter of their feet on the cold stone. 

When they finally reached a landing at the top of a tower, Marian placed her hands on her knees, breathing hard, grimacing at the pain in her side. She wasn't quite as recovered as she had thought and the frantic run through the palace had taken a lot out of her. But urgency still pulsed through her and she straightened again. 

"Which way?" she asked. 

Guy gestured with his left hand. "Down there. Wait!" he called as she took off, sprinting as much as her exhausted body would allow. As she neared the end of the hallway she saw a door standing ajar, giving her a glimpse of the room inside it. Two men were slumped against the wall, their weapons scattered on the floor. She couldn't stop to check if they were alive just now but she didn't see any initial wounds. 

Marian pushed her way inside, looking around the room. "Robin!" she called out. Nothing. The room was empty. She saw empty chains hanging on the wall, a wooden slab with open iron bands in the corner, and other various instruments and devices used for things she didn't even want to contemplate. But no Robin. 

"Where is he?" she spun around when she heard Guy come in behind her. 

"That's why I told you to wait," he said. "He's in here." He showed her a domed structure in the corner of the room. There were four stairs sunk into the floor and a small space that seemed to go underneath the dome. Right next to the first stair was a lever, or what used to be a lever. Now, the wooden handle used to pull it was snapped in half. 

Marian banged her fist on the thick door. "Robin! Can you hear me?" When no answer was forthcoming, she pressed her ear against the wood and then pulled back in surprise at how warm the door was. She didn't know what this room was, but she knew they had to get him out of there. 

"Help me lift this," Guy said. "It's called the Chimney. If we don't get him out of there the smoke will kill him." 

Marian grabbed one end of the beam, the corners of the wood digging into her palms. Nodding her readiness, the two of them lifted in tandem. Her muscles strained until they managed to raise it just enough to get it over the bands that held it. The wooden beam fell to the floor with a bang. Marian lunged towards the door, grasping the round iron handle with both hands and pulling. The door opened with a creaking groan. Smoke billowed out, eagerly seeking new space to fill. Marian coughed, her eyes watering as she moved forward into the room. She couldn't see anything except swirling grey. 

Her toe hit something soft and Marian went to her knees, stretching out her hands while at the same time trying to hold her breath to keep from breathing in the smoke. She felt a shoulder and then an outstretched arm. She found his hand and her heart stuttered when she felt stickiness that indicated blood. 

She clutched Robin's arm with both hands and pulled, straining against his dead weight. He didn't make a sound as she dragged him from the room, one agonizing step at a time. 

More smoke followed them out and Marian stumbled, gasping and coughing. Hands grabbed Robin's other arm and Guy helped her drag him further from the chamber. It was amazing how much the stuffy air of the tower room seemed like spring air compared to the Chimney. But it wasn't enough. 

Marian held her hand under Robin's nose and a wave of fear crashed over her when she felt nothing. "He's not breathing!" She looked up at Guy. "We have to get him outside." 

"There's a balcony," he said, indicating with his head towards the other side of the room. He grabbed Robin's feet and she slipped her hands under his arms, lifting him up. After a bit of a struggle, Guy got the door open and cool, fresh air flooded in, fighting the toxic smoke. They brought Robin around the corner of the door and as far away from the escaping smoke as possible. She lay him down on the floor and Guy stood back, but Marian forgot he was there in her attempt to get Robin breathing again. 

"Come on," she whispered to him, pushing the hair back off his forehead. "Breathe. I rode all this way to get here; you're not dying on me now." 

She waited, the fresh air clearing out the smoke by the minute but his chest still didn't move. "Marian," Guy said from beside her but she refused to acknowledge the sympathy in his voice and ignored him. This wasn't over. There was something else she could try, a technique Halt had taught her once when one of the wards at Redmont hit his head and fell into a pond. Even though Robin wasn't drowning, it was all she could think of. 

She opened Robin's mouth and tilted his head back, pinching his nose closed. Then she covered his mouth with her own and breathed in. Sitting up, she placed the heel of her hand on his breastbone and pushed down, hard and fast thirty times, counting under her breath. "Come on, Robin," she said. Marian repeated the process once, twice, three times and then kept going, losing track. Her only thought was to keep going, to keep him breathing. Nothing existed but the two breaths and the thirty counts, two breaths and thirty counts. 

She didn't know how long she had been going. It didn't matter, if he wasn't breathing yet she couldn't stop. Eventually Marian felt a hand on her shoulder, pulling her back. She resisted, knowing that if she could just try one more time he would start breathing again. But the hand's pull was insistent. "Marian, stop," Guy said gently. "You tried." 

"No!" she cried. "I can't just leave him like this!" She was supposed to make it. She was supposed to save him. It couldn't end like this. 

"It's over," Guy murmured. "I'm sorry, I am, but you can't bring him back. We came too late." 

_Too late_ . Those words echoed in her mind and she felt the crushing weight of guilt and grief descend. She couldn't keep trying anymore. A sob wrenched its way out of her throat and the tears finally spilled down her cheeks. Marian pulled out of Guy's grip and bent over Robin's body. She cradled his head in her lap, her throat tight as the tears splashed onto his face. 

"I'm sorry," she wept. "I'm so sorry Robin. Don't do this, please." She held his face, hoping somehow the physical contact would keep him here with her, alive. "We won. The king is safe, your people are safe. You have to see it." 

Robin's face was pale and his body was still. His bloody, ravaged hands were limp at his side. That smile he always had hidden in the corners of his mouth was gone; the energy that always spilled from him was smothered. Marian could feel her heart cracking, like ice at the end of winter when the slightest touch would shatter it. She had failed. Robin was gone. "Come back to me, archer boy," she whispered while she sobbed. "Come back." 

"I'll go find someone to help us," Guy said uncomfortably. Marian could feel him get up from beside her and walk away but she couldn't bring herself to look up. Once he returned with a guard or a servant or whoever he found, Robin's body would be carried away. He would be gone for good. 

She was alone on the balcony. Marian leaned over and brushed her lips over his forehead. She didn't even say something to him when she last saw him in the council hall. Now, she had lost her chance to say goodbye. 

Suddenly Robin's body shuddered and he started coughing. Marian froze in shock as he convulsed, hacking up awful grey sludge flecked with red. Springing into action she turned him on his side, forcing whatever was in his lungs get out so he could start breathing normally again. She kept her hand on his back, holding him steady while he retched, not quite sure what to do with this surge of joy at seeing him alive. The blood he was coughing up was concerning but they could deal with it as long as he lived. 

When he couldn't cough up anything more he sank back into her arms, exhausted. Marian adjusted her hold so he could sit up better. "You stupid, bloody, idiot," she said, laughing and crying at the same time. "Don't ever do that to me again." He turned his head into her shoulder and she clutched him tighter. "I thought—I thought you were dead." 

She felt him laugh even though she couldn't hear it very well. "I thought I was too," he murmured. His voice sounded scratchy and raw and she wished she had some water. Guy had to return soon and then they could get him to a physician. 

"Thank you," he whispered. "I should have known," he pulled away and looked at her like a man in the desert seeing water for the first time. Then he smiled and a glint of amusement appeared in his tired eyes. "Fair Maid Marian to the rescue." 

Her heart pounded but she nudged him companionably. "I was only returning the favor." 

"Marian—" he stuttered and then started coughing again. She held him as the coughs wracked his body. 

"It's all right," she murmured. He hung his head, trying to catch his breath. 

"The King?" he asked. She couldn't see his face but she could feel the tension in his shoulders. 

"Safe. Havershom is dead," she said as relief flooded through him. "The Sheriff is gone." 

He looked up at her sidelong, questioning. Marian shrugged. "He got away. I had more important things to worry about." 

"I appreciate that," he grinned. Then he sat up. "We will find him, Marian. He won't get away with it." 

Marian shook her head. She wasn't going to think about the Sheriff, not now. "You and King Richard are both alive, that's all that matters. And you need to focus on getting better." 

Robin waved away her concern. "I'll be fine." 

"Nonsense," she snapped. "You've been inhaling smoke. You're coughing up grey stuff and blood. Your eyes are red and raw. And don't even get me started on your hands." Robin winced, instinctively pulling his hands closer to his chest. They were bloody and shredded, the skin crusted and red from irritation. "You're seeing a physician and following every instruction." He looked sufficiently chagrined, but fear and adrenaline was still running through her veins. She had to make sure he would listen. "I already thought I lost you once," she said. "I can't go through that again." 

The silence grew between them and Marian felt a blush start to creep up her cheeks. "All right," he finally said. "I'll be good. Promise." He looked so sincere and shamefaced, like a little boy getting scolded for taking too many pastries, Marian laughed. When she laughed he dropped the look and smiled. 

"Mother of God," a voice said from behind them. Marian turned and saw Sir Guy staring at them in shock. There was a manservant looking over Guy's shoulder in concern. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Robin's voice had turned bitterly cold and anger flashed across Guy's face. 

"He's helping us," Marian said, putting a hand on Robin's arm. 

Robin frowned, but he continued to look at Guy with mistrust and Guy wasn't much better. Marian rolled her eyes. "Could we wait to be enemies again until after Robin is taken to the infirmary?" She slipped her arm around Robin's waist, to help him stand. 

"You trust him?" Robin murmured in her ear. He leaned on her heavily, more so than he would probably like to admit. There was a flash of pain in her side but she couldn't let him know she was injured, not yet. 

She thought about his question while the manservant came around to Robin's other side to help. "Yes," she answered. "I think I do. He told King Richard he worked with the Sheriff, to help prove you were innocent. And I wouldn't have found you if it weren't for him." 

Robin grunted but kept an eye on Sir Guy the entire way to the infirmary. It was slow going and they had to stop multiple times for Robin to help catch his breath. But once they finally found the infirmary wing and got Robin settled in one of the beds, an assistant gave him a broth to both ease his throat and put him to sleep. Its effect was almost immediate and Robin's eyes were closed before he laid his head on the pillow. 

Once she was certain he was asleep and as comfortable as possible, Marian let the doctors do their job and gave them space. She slipped out of the room before the physicians trapped her there because of her rib. She saw Guy ahead of her, almost at the end of the hallway. "Sir Guy, wait!" 

He halted and Marian ran to catch up with him. There was tension in his shoulders but his face was carefully composed. It seemed he was waiting for her to speak first. 

"Where are you going?" 

Guy raised an eyebrow. "I'm certainly not going to stay around here. I'm not going to be punished if I have the chance to leave." He must have noticed her stunned look because he asked, "You didn't think I stayed to help out of some altruistic sense of justice did you?" 

"So why did you help us?" she asked, unperturbed. She knew he tried to put on a front but she had seen glimpses of compassion before. "I know you dislike Robin, and you said yourself you don't want to be punished. So, why? Why put yourself on the line for us?" 

"I owed him," Guy said. "The day I went into the forest to look for you all, to warn you, he saved me life." 

Marian raised her eyebrows, encouraging him to keep going. Guy sighed. "This…thing came out of nowhere. It was a like a giant wolf, the biggest wolf I had ever seen." Marian suddenly felt cold as he continued. "But it wasn't just a wolf, I don't know," he grumbled, getting defensive. "Look, I know it sounds crazy but it's true. It attacked me and then Robin was shooting at it." He laughed. "I'm sure he had no idea it was me he was saving, but I can't complain. Anyway he saved my life and I thought I should make us even." 

"I believe you," she said softly. Somehow she knew, just knew, he had encountered another _valkan_. But the worst part was Robin had lied to her about it. He hadn't even mentioned it. She remembered seeing him saunter into camp after she woke up and being so happy. She remembered asking him where he had gone and when he answered she could tell something was off but she had dismissed her misgivings. That was a mistake. 

"That's not all," he said, bringing her back to the conversation. His voice had changed and she narrowed her eyes a bit, examining him. "I couldn't understand it. The people loved him, even though he was breaking the law. I thought it was because they just didn't want to pay the taxes. Then you came along." 

Marian was startled. "Me? What do I have to do with it?" 

She couldn't read his expression and he was silent for a moment before continuing. "You. A foreigner with absolutely no stake in what was going on, not to mention someone who clearly isn't taken in easily. You fell in love with him." 

Her face flamed red; she could feel it. It took a moment to make her voice sound normal when she replied, "I don't know what you're talking about." 

Guy gave a half smile. "Just like all the other people, you followed. You almost died for him. It was probably better for you to go along with us, but it didn't take long for you to take his side. It was just, the day of your execution…I realized I wanted to be the type of person that would inspire that kind of loyalty." 

Marian looked at him. She could see glimpses of that man he wanted to be, but it was buried under years of doing what he could to survive, living under the Sheriff and absorbing his methods, his attitudes. "Then stay," she pleaded. "You stopped the Sheriff, you warned us. Whatever the King decides it can't be that bad." 

"I may not be the worst person in the world, but I'm not a saint Marian," he said. "I know what people will say. I'll never be able to live down my connection with him and I don't want to live under their scrutiny and judgment. Besides, I can't compete with that," he nodded in the direction of the infirmary. "Especially when he had been right all along. I'll just be the one who opposed him. I won't do it." 

He pushed past her and headed down the stairs. "Guy—" she tried to stop him. He turned back and she detected a hint of a smile. 

"Take care of yourself Marian." 

She stood by herself at the top of the stairs, watching as he disappeared into the castle. She knew she could call out to someone and stop him. But she couldn't find it in herself to do it. If he wanted to change she couldn't make him, he had to make that choice for himself. So she turned her back and let him go.


	25. Limbo

Marian angled her chair so the sunlight coming in from the infirmary's window illuminated as much of the journal page as possible. She scratched absently through her shirt at the edges of the bandage on her chest. It had been too long since she recorded her activities and observations so she was using Robin's recovery time to catch up. To be honest, it felt good to do something so normal and part of her Ranger routine. It also felt strange, recording it all on the tail end of things, knowing they succeeded after all that worry and sorrow and stress. 

Not to mention that focusing on the past kept her from having to contemplate the future. Robin was well on his way, sleeping less and less and drinking lots of herbal teas and broths. He complained, as all do when they've been sick for more than a day, even though he knew it was good for him. It didn't help that they had to keep his hands wrapped until they healed, making it difficult to handle simple things like utensils. There were times when he snapped at her and the other physicians, accusing them of babying him. Marian learned then to leave him alone and let him struggle until he either succeeded or broke down and asked for help. She didn't hold it against him, knowing she would probably feel the same way in his position. 

King Richard, who had come to visit often, would be calling her in any day now to really learn what she had to tell him about Araluen. Most likely it would be after the event he was planning as a thank you and celebration of what he termed their "loyal heroics." Marian had done her best to stop it, or at least to get herself out of it, but as stubborn as she was it was difficult to go against a king as bullheaded and unwavering as Richard when he put his mind to something. 

Robin's supporters and their friends from Sherwood were trickling in to London, as Richard sent them invitations to be honorary guests at the celebration. Little John and the men who were with him showed up soon after the assassination attempt, settling into the castle life quite well for men who had lived in the forest for years. It was nice to have people she knew around. They would gather in the evenings usually around Robin's bed, swapping stories and enjoying each other's company. Some of the men were even teaching her cards. She and Robin were an unstoppable team and they would play until it got too competitive and, as a result, too loud and the assistants would banish them from the room. 

Marian smiled, remembering when she brought the last of her coffee to one of the gatherings, sharing it as a treat. Jenny and young Will had brought her supplies with them when they arrived, surprisingly soon after Little John. It seems they were tired of waiting to hear back and decided to come to London themselves, ahead of everyone else. Tasting the precious brew after going so long without it had been heavenly and she was secretly glad when very few of the others enjoyed it as much as she did. It left more for her to enjoy. 

But in the back of her mind, Marian knew this pleasant lull wouldn't last. Robin would be reinstated as lord of Locksley. Richard would settle down to ruling England. Her friends from Sherwood would be getting back to their lives. Then she would have to decide whether to stay or move on and explore the rest of this world. If it was as wide and varied as her own that could take years, years that would take her farther and farther from her home. But it was her duty, and lately she had been feeling more out of place here. Maybe it was time to move on. 

Marian shook her head, realizing she had stopped writing during her musings. Beside her Robin stirred and she looked up from the incomplete page. She was relieved, of course, but a little apprehensive. She hadn't confronted him yet about what she learned from Guy. Marian had to admit to herself that she was scared. Things had been pleasant the last few weeks and she didn't want to jeopardize that. She knew she would have to confront a lot more than his omission about the _valkan_. 

_Time to get it over with Marian_ , she steeled herself. _It has to happen sooner or later_. 

She smiled gently at Robin when he blinked and looked over to see who his sentry was today. He grinned in answer and she was overcome with the urge to put off the conversation for another day, like she had been doing. Marian closed the book and clutched it to her chest, a sort of barrier as well as a support. "Good afternoon, sleepy head," she said. 

Robin snorted and pushed himself into a sitting position. Then he saw the cup of tea on his bedside and glared. "Honestly, are they trying to drown me?" 

"I'm not even going to answer that," Marian said, leaning back in her chair. "You know it helps your throat and the steam helps your lungs. I think you're just trying to complain." 

He made a face, not trying to deny it. "It's the only thing I can do, apparently." 

"Uh-uh," she shook her head. "You've been outside and toured the palace. They just want you here to sleep so they can keep an eye on you." 

Robin gave a gusty sigh and then took the tea. "Speaking of keeping an eye out, have they found him yet?" 

News of Guy's disappearance had spread through the castle soon after he left. Rumors flew about the reason for it and many of them were not favorable. But she had observed the king when he heard the news and decided a course of action. Marian thought he might understand the young man a bit more than he was letting on. "Not yet," she said. "But is it really so bad?" 

He gave her a look over the top of his cup. "We _are_ talking about Guy of Gisbourne. Everyone would be better off if he was in a place where we could keep an eye on him." 

"I think you're a bit prejudice," she said. "It doesn't matter, though, Richard has sent people out to look for him." Whether they were looking very hard was something she wasn't going to worry about. 

Marian took a breath and closed her eyes. "Robin." When she opened her eyes again he was looking at her, his head slightly tilted. "What happened they day Guy found you in Sherwood, to tell you about the Sheriff's plot?" 

There it was—The slightest tightening around the eyes, the briefest hesitation in setting down his cup. She probably wouldn't have seen it if she wasn't looking. He covered up being startled well. Her heart sank. Marian realized she had been hoping Guy lied to her and nothing really happened that day, but she was wrong. 

"What do you mean?" he asked. 

"Don't lie to me," she kept her voice low. Though the infirmary only had a few other patients who were in beds further down the row, assistants and servants were still around. Since it was quiet in the room their voices carried easily and she didn't want others to overhear what might be said. "You killed a _valkan_." It wasn't a question. 

Robin's chagrin was so evident he didn't need to answer her. Instead he laid his head back and closed his eyes. "He told you. Of course he did," he laughed bitterly. 

"It should have been you!" she hissed. "How could you not tell me? It was a creature sent from _my_ world! With everything you know, you lied to me?" Robin looked at her, twisting the bed sheets in his fists. "Did it say anything to you?" 

He looked pained, but he answered her. "It said it wouldn't matter if he managed to kill you because…soon you'll be all that's left of your home. It said," he closed his eyes, "It said Will Treaty was dead." 

Marian felt like someone just punched her in the stomach. She couldn't breathe. Surging to her feet she stumbled to the window, closing her eyes and hoping the crisp spring air would clean away this awful feeling in her chest. _It's not true_ , she recited in her head. _Not true, not true, not true_. 

"Marian," she felt a light touch on her shoulder. Robin must have gotten up and followed her to the window. "I didn't tell you because you had just woken up after your injury. I thought you were going to die. When I saw you alive…I couldn't let you bear that burden so soon. I didn't want you to worry." 

She whirled on him and he dropped his hand, stepping back. "Didn't want me to worry? That's not your choice to make, Robin! How would you feel if someone told me Locksley burned to the ground and I didn't tell you? If I _lied_ to you?" 

"I'm sorry. I know, I should have told you. But I thought," he started to run a hand through his hair and winced, forgetting his hands were still healing. "I just wanted to protect you." 

"I don't need protecting," she snapped, her churning, mixed emotions expressing themselves through anger. 

"I know you don't need it!" he retorted, starting to lose his own patience. "I'm not saying you need it. But is it really so bad? Is it really that awful to have someone who doesn't want you to be in pain?" Marian blinked, not quite expecting this turn. "I was there when the first creature came and you saw those oak leaves. When I saw your grief, I didn't understand it. But all I knew was that I wanted to help you. You were hurting and I couldn't do anything about it." He spread his hands helplessly. "This time I could." 

"It's not your job to keep me from getting hurt," she told him softly. "When you were there for me after the Sheriff attacked me, that helped more than you know. We all get hurt. As much as we want it go away, it won't. Knowing someone is there to lean on, that's the important part. But you can't keep things like this from me, can't you see that? Besides," she continued. "It was lying, it had to be." 

Robin was silent. She looked at his somber expression and realization dawned, slowly, like thawing ice. "Wait a minute. You lied, not just because you thought I couldn't handle it, but because you thought it was telling the truth." 

"Marian—" 

"No!" she interrupted. "How could you think that?" 

He turned around in exasperation and walked back to the bed, sitting on the edge. The mattress creaked when he sat down and he rested his arms on his knees. He looked up at her beseechingly. "I don't want to think it! But, now that you know what it said, you have to consider the possibility it might be true." 

"You can't say that to me," she said, keeping a tight check on her voice, which threatened to break. "You, of all people, can't say that to me." 

"You can't keep living your life in limbo, one foot in this world and the other in yours," Robin said. "It will tear you apart." 

She knew what he was trying to say. He wanted her to let go of her home, to settle here like she was a resident of this world. Marian knew, if she wanted to, she could find a place here. Images of the future, fuzzy possibilities, flashed in her mind's eye. A part of her desperately wanted to see those images come to fruition. 

But the rest of her knew they never would. She would not abandon who she was and where she was from. Not when there was the slightest possibility she could return home. That wasn't all, though. The way she felt when she thought she lost Robin almost broke her heart. What would happen if she put her heart here, with her new friends—friends who were as much family as those back in Araluen—and someone came, years later, to take her back again? Could she do it? Would she abandon her duty as a Ranger to stay? Or would she disappear from England forever? One way or the other she would break ties with people she loved. And she loved him, she realized. She didn't quite understand exactly in what way or how much, but even in the midst of being angry with him she realized she loved Robin. The possibility of her leaving would always hover over them. Marian couldn't do that to him, to her friends, or to herself. She wouldn't. 

"Someone will come," she told him. All this had gone through her head in a matter of moments. "Eventually someone will take me back. Once I do my job here, informing the king of my land and what is going on there I'll need to move on. I can't just stay in England forever. I don't belong here." 

She ignored the flash of hurt across his face. Robin's shoulders slumped, almost imperceptibly, like he had given up. "I have to believe, Robin." She wanted him to understand, and in doing so realized he was right. This limbo, as he called it, was tearing her apart. But what he didn't seem to understand was that she didn't have a choice. 

"If I accept my world is gone…I'm afraid I'll loose myself. I just can't do it." Marian clasped her hands behind her back to keep from reaching out to him. It would only make things worse. "I'm sorry." 

Quickly, before things could get worse, she turned and fled the room. She didn't pause to look back. Robin watched her go, knowing there was nothing he could do even if he did go after her. He walked to the window and rested his arms on it, taking in the view of the sprawling city below. Buildings of all shapes and sizes squeezed together to create a bumpy, prickly blanket across the land. In the distance he could see trees. They still looked mostly grey, but there was a tinge of green that hinted at buds, a true sign of spring. This high up he couldn't smell the distinct aroma of a crowded city, nor could he hear the cacophony that was always present when a group of humans lived in close proximity to each other. It was actually quite peaceful, and he found himself absently tracing the twisting roadways between homes and businesses. He could see the River Thames glinting dully in the sunlight. The water looked completely still, like a painting, from this high up. 

He should have known. He should have told her as soon as possible, instead of having her hear it from someone else. Robin mentally kicked himself, but there was nothing he could do about it now. The only course of action was to give her space, to let her figure out her own place here now that their outlaw days were over. He wasn't even sure how he was going to fit in this next stage. But he knew he would feel more able to take whatever the future held if she would stay. 

He could feel her slipping away. Even in that short, heated conversation he could sense her pulling back and it hurt. He knew how much being a Ranger meant to her and he couldn't abandon his duties at Locksley. But, he didn't want to let her go without even trying. He believed they could find a way, if only given the chance. Robin gazed out the window and felt the breeze brush his skin with the promise of spring. He realized he had to tell her, before they went their separate ways. He had to tell her exactly how he felt, no matter what her decision might be. 

*RMRMRMRMR* 

Marian sat in her palace room, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair hung down over her shoulders in loose, unruly curls. She sighed in disgust, holding up a lock and looking helplessly at it. Today was the ceremony honoring Robin and celebrating the King's return and good health. It was a state event with the highest officials and dignitaries from all over the kingdom, or so she had been informed. And she had no idea how to do her hair, or what to wear. What she really wanted was to wear her Ranger uniform, but the voice in her head that sounded like Alyss scolded her. She would hide behind her cloak and it would draw too much attention anyway. She was getting enough as it is, what with receiving a medal from the King alongside Robin and his men. She didn't need more for not wearing the appropriate clothing. 

She looked over at the bag in the corner of her room. Most of her things were already packed and ready to go. After her fight with Robin, she managed to get a meeting with the King. She sat down with him for a long time, even showed him some of the history books she brought with her… 

"This is incredible," Richard said, slowly flipping through the pages. "If it's true, we need to send ambassadors." 

"Your Majesty, I'm sorry, but that can't happen," Marian told him. "Not yet. I've been ordered not to return until someone comes for me." 

He stopped turning pages and looked at her. "Lady Marian, if you can't return and we can't send people over there, then what is the point of revealing where you are from?" 

"I figured we could learn from each other," she said. "You need to know what's on the other side of the gateway, and so do I. And, if we get along, then we both benefit." 

King Richard raised an eyebrow and shut the book. "Yes, I guess we do." 

Marian took a breath and had to consciously keep herself from shifting in her chair. "Sire, in the meantime, I intend to travel. There is a whole new world out there, after all," she smiled. "I would appreciate your support." 

Richard rubbed his chin, thinking. "Of course. I can send someone with you as a guide, and I can give you a seal that will grant you safe passage in England." 

"Actually, I would prefer to travel alone," Marian said. "A map will be sufficient." 

She saw the gleam in his eye that showed he knew what she was trying to do. It would be better for her to travel alone because then she could go wherever she chose. It would better for him to send someone with her. "Of course. Beforehand we can discuss matters with each other. And upon your departure, if you leave some of the materials here Michael can look them over. That way we can be prepared whenever consistent contact can be established between our countries." 

Marian's mouth twitched. "As long as it's at my discretion, Majesty." 

Richard inclined his head slightly and then reached a hand across the desk. "I look forward to working with you, my lady." 

She reached out and shook his hand… 

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Marian sighed and went to open the door, speaking as she went. 

"Will, I told you, you have to come to the ceremony. Don't try to get out of it by running to Robin…" she trailed off in shock when she realized who her visitor was. 

"I can't imagine this Will would be able to get away with it, knowing you are looking after him," the woman at the door said with a hint of mirth. 

Marian stopped short, her brain scrambling to catch up with the unexpected visitor. She looked at the woman in front of her, pausing to collect herself. "Your Highness, I apologize, I didn't realize you were coming," she bowed and stepped aside as Eleanor of Aquitaine, the King's mother, swept into her room. She was trailed by two attendants, each carrying a large, wrapped package. 

"Nor should you have," the woman said. Her pale blonde hair, streaked with grey, was piled neatly on top of her head. The heavy fabric of her conservative and austere grey dress made a quiet _shushing_ sound as she walked across the room to the little window seat. Her movements were smooth and fluid and her voice gentle. But when she looked at Marian the young Ranger felt like the older woman could read all of her secrets with only a glance. They were the eyes of a mother, a general, and a queen. "I intended my visit to be a surprise." The corners of her eyes crinkled. "It seems I succeeded." 

She nodded to her attendants. "You may place the packages there. Then I would like a moment alone with Lady Marian." The man and woman placed the packages on Marian's bed and then left, closing the door behind them. The queen mother sank gracefully onto the small window seat, indicating the vacated chair for Marian to take her own seat. Eleanor spread her skirts out in a fan and Marian admired the way she turned even the humblest bench into a throne. 

"I wanted to thank you, my dear, for saving my son, and for saving England in the process," Eleanor said softly. 

"Your Highness," Marian said, taking her seat. "I only helped in the end. You should really be speaking with Robin." 

Eleanor smiled. "I spoke with the lord of Locksley, do not fear. But you have played a crucial role in saving this country. And you, personally, were responsible for keeping my son alive. That deserves at the very least a 'thank you.' As a mother…I can never repay you for that," the sincerity in her voice caught Marian by surprise. "Your family must be so proud of you." 

Marian lost her breath for a moment and didn't respond. Eleanor was perceptive and her eyes softened. "I'm sorry, Marian." 

"It's okay," she said quickly. "I don't really remember my parents, but…I still have a family." She smiled slightly, remembering meals in the Ranger cabin with Will and Alyss, the days off with Carey and James, and the field assignments when Halt joined her and her mentor. "I hope I have made them proud," she said to herself. 

Eleanor titled her head. "My son told me a little about you," she said. "You and I are not that much different." 

"Highness?" Marian asked. She thought they couldn't be more different. 

"We're both smart, competent, and intelligent women who have had to leave their homes for the sake of duty," she said. "I was a young girl, not much older than you, when I left and married Richard's father. I felt lost and adrift for a long time but I could never find my way home. It hurt, but you get past it and it becomes part of you." 

Marian looked at the older woman with surprise. Her description was like what Marian had been feeling herself for so long. "No matter where you go, or who you leave behind, remember to find strength in yourself, Marian," Eleanor said. "They may be the roots, but you are the tree itself. Sometimes the roots grow away from you, but you remain tall and strong." 

"Did you ever go back home?" she asked. 

Eleanor looked out the window, a small smile on her face. "Yes, quite a few years later. Then you realize you miss the people you once thought were strangers. You're never quite the same, after." 

The queen looked wistful but Marian knew the older woman must have had an inkling about Marian's choices. So she decided to prod her a little further. Maybe the queen could help her with a decision. "Your Highness, if I may ask?" Eleanor turned back towards Marian, her eyebrow raised. Marian cleared her throat, suddenly nervous. Maybe she didn't really want to hear what the queen was going to say. "If you could have gone back home and stayed there, would you?" 

Eleanor was silent for a moment, thinking. Her slender hands, which Marian noticed were a bit calloused and showed signs of hard work, were neatly folded in her lap. She didn't stir or fidget but everything about her indicated she was taking the question seriously. Marian thought she would have liked to see this woman in action. 

"I don't believe I would," she finally said. "My husband, Henry, was a good man, and I grew very fond of him. I love my sons dearly. Yes, my dear, _both_ of them despite both of their flaws. England became a second home. I never stopped missing France, but in the end my home was here." 

Marian nodded but she must have been frowning for the dowager queen laughed brightly. "I must not have been much help, was I?" 

"Oh, no, thank you—" Marian protested but Eleanor waved it away with her hand. 

"I'll tell you this Lady Marian. Only you can make your choice. Only you can decide whether to choose because of duty, family, love, familiarity, or the unknown. Either way, you will always be giving up something." Eleanor leaned across the space between them and put a hand on Marian's knee. "But you'll always be gaining something wonderful, too." Marian looked into the queen's face and for a moment felt like she could do anything. Whatever her choice, it would turn out all right. 

"Now," Eleanor said, standing up in one graceful motion. "Another piece of advice, don't let looming momentous life-changing decisions overshadow the smaller moments. Tonight is a wonderful example." She walked to the bed and Marian followed her, curious now that her attention was brought back to the mysterious packages the queen had brought with her. 

"It is my understanding you do not own anything appropriate for a state function," Eleanor said while she untied the twine around the simply wrapped packages. "As the celebration is in your honor, with your compatriots of course, I find it imperative you are dressed the part. I hope you'll forgive me, when your clothing was sent to the laundry I asked them to take your measurements." 

Marian felt her mouth drop as the brown paper wrapping fell away from the first parcel. Folds upon folds of creamy silk spilled out onto the bed. She reached out gentle fingers and stroked the soft fabric. It was so pristine she thought just touching it would leave marks. 

Eleanor took the fabric in her hands and shook it out, holding it up to her shoulders so Marian could have a better look. It was a beautiful dress, a light golden cream color. Bronze oak leaves, edged with the tiniest gold beads Marian had ever seen, were embroidered on the hem and the collar, connected by bronze vines. Sheer white fabric covered the upper part of the chest up to the neck, folded in little waves. The sleeves were pointed and embroidered with bronze thread on either arm to look like archer's arm guards. The corset was laced in the back and made of the same colored fabric, but trimmed with bronze ribbon at the bottom to indicate her weapons belt. The skirt belled out slightly, but not enough that she would feel like she was walking around in an overturned boat. Instead, the fabric flowed and she found herself excited to try it on. 

"My Lady, it's beautiful," she said in awe. Just because she was a Ranger didn't mean she couldn't appreciate pretty clothes. 

"I was made aware of your medallion, and Lord Locksley said it was important to you. I hope you don't mind the additions I asked for," Eleanor responded, delighted by Marian's response. "But there is something else." 

She laid the dress out on the bed and moved to the second package. After she unwrapped it Marian felt herself start to grin. The dowager queen hadn't left anything out. It was a dark green overcoat. The sleeves stopped at the shoulder and the rest was cut down past the chest, lacing together over the stomach. The rest of it fell to the floor in a gentle V-shape at the front so the cream underdress was exposed. But her favorite part was the hood. It wasn't quite as deep as the hood from her cloak so having it up was more decorative than functional. But it was there, and there was no doubt it was meant to represent the signature Ranger's outfit, even if Queen Eleanor didn't know it. Marian could only guess she had Robin to thank for letting the dowager queen know the cloak was important. The underside of the hood was the same cream color as the underdress but the rest was a solid, dark pine-tree green that reminded Marian of the forests from home. 

She turned to Eleanor, who was watching her carefully. The queen's expression was unreadable but Marian thought she could detect a spark of enjoyment in her eyes. "Highness, I do not know how to thank you." 

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. "No need, my dear. This gift is not wholly altruistic. I cannot have my guests of honor outshined tonight. Do not worry about a thing. I'll send my second lady-in-waiting, Lucille, to help you get ready and dress your hair. It's already set, so protesting is futile," she held up her hand to head off Marian's already formed objection. "The dress is only a part of the image. Our power and strength can be shown through many forms, including dress." Eleanor looked at her like a general inspecting her soldiers and then nodded. "Sometimes a beautiful dress is as lethal as any bow. I shall see you at the celebration." With that, the queen inclined her head and then swept out of the room, leaving Marian speechless and not quite certain what had happened. The room felt emptier after the queen left and Marian found herself breathing easier. Her presence alone was powerful and she was starting to see the family resemblance. 

She held up the green dress cloak, admiring the way the light played off the dark fabric. She was determined to have fun tonight. Once tomorrow dawned she would make her decision. One way or another, her life was going to change again. 

There was a soft knock at her now open door and Marian turned to see a young woman who looked to be only a few years over twenty standing in her doorway. Her hair was covered by a white veil, but there were a few strands of dark, curly hair peeking out from underneath the edges. She carried a cloth bag in her hand and wore the standard red and white dress of the ladies-in-waiting. "Excuse me, my lady, my name is Lucille. The Queen Mother sent me to help prepare you for the ceremony. If you're ready to begin?" 

Marian bunched the cloak's fabric in her hands and then spread it out gently on the bed next to the cream dress. "Yes," she answered. "I believe I am." 


	26. Hello and Goodbye

They were gathered outside the Grand Hall. Though the doors were closed for the moment Robin's small group could hear the roar of voices just on the other side, people already seated and awaiting the ceremony with excitement and anticipation. Today those would finally see Robin Hood and his band of outlaws, now heroes, in the flesh and congratulated by King Richard himself. The people liked any reason to celebrate, but today was a special occasion. 

Michael was getting their group in line and ready to process in. The line wasn't very long considering many of Robin's people would rather blend into the crowd then be the focus of hundreds of people. Little John was at the head of the procession and he had wanted Lucy to walk with him but she adamantly refused to attend, even as a spectator. So he had insisted that Friar Tuck attend, which had taken the combined wills of Robin, Marian, and Little John to convince the Friar. He actually put on a clean priest's garment for the occasion but kept his staff, if only to pretend that he still retained some control over the whole situation. 

Jenny was next, looking splendid in a bright red, simply cut dress. She had asked Christopher to walk with her and the poor guy looked like he was about to pass out. But she put a comforting hand on his shoulder and he gave her a shaky grin. 

Will was standing in front of Robin, tugging uncomfortably at the collar of his tunic. His hair was combed and it was a surprise for Robin to see how grown-up he looked. Robin grinned, resisting the urge to ruffle the boy's hair. Marian had promised to walk with the boy but she hadn't arrived yet, and if Robin messed up Will's hair that she had spent so long fixing he wouldn't even make it past the doors. Robin was last in line and processing in by himself, since he was the man of the hour. 

"How are you feeling, Will?" Robin asked. 

The boy scowled. "Fine," said. There was a swell of voices on the other side of the door and Will's eyes darted towards them, a flash of terror crossing his face. 

Robin shook his head, "I wish I could be more like you," he said. "I'm terrified." 

Will looked up at him. "Really?" 

"Oh yeah," he said. "I just keep trying to tell myself that everyone in there is on our side. And most are here for the free food more than anything," Robin winked. Will laughed and Robin noticed a bit of the tension leaving the boy's shoulders. 

"My lady, I think you're lost," Little John said, mirth in his eyes. "The nobility are supposed to be on the other side of the door." 

Robin turned around to see who John might be talking to and came face to face with Marian. Whatever he had been about to say left his mind as he saw her standing there in a cream dress, reminiscent of her Ranger uniform. John wasn't wrong in his statement—she looked like a queen. Her hair was piled on top of her head, gathered together by a thin golden hairnet that glittered amongst her curls. A few stray strands of hair, artfully placed, framed her face and brushed her cheeks. 

She made a face at John's comment, looking more like the Marian he was used to. "You're flattery could use some work." 

"You do look beautiful, lass," John said, smiling. "You're putting us all to shame." 

Marian smiled. "That's better, though untrue. You all look just as good. Jenny, you are stunning in that dress." 

Jenny brushed the red fabric with her hands. "Do you think so? I was hoping it wasn't too much." 

"Absolutely not," Marian said. "It suits you." She glanced up at met Robin's eyes. They hadn't had much opportunity to speak since the hospital room and the silence between them stretched until she cleared her throat. 

"It's good to see you," she said. 

"You look, um, you look good," Robin said, scrambling to think of a response. Behind him John rolled his eyes. 

Trumpets sounded on the other side of the door and Michael clapped his hands. "All right everyone, time to line up!" 

Marian took her place next to Will and linked arms with him. "I'm counting on you to make sure I don't trip in this thing," she murmured to the boy. Robin smiled, knowing she had seen Will's nervousness too. When Will straightened his shoulders and grinned at Marian, Robin knew they were ready. 

"Here we go," Michael said. Then the seneschal pushed the double doors open and they processed into the Grand Hall. Marian had to catch her breath when they entered. There were people _everywhere_. A multitude of colors and sounds crashed over them as people turned and started to cheer. She felt Will stiffen beside her and she squeezed his arm lightly. "Just focus on the front," she murmured to him, struggling to take her own advice. Her eyes kept catching on the flashing jewelry and faces of strangers around them. She had to force herself to let them all fade into the background as they made their way up the hall and onto the dais, where King Richard awaited them. 

One by one they stepped up, putting some distance between them and the milling crowd. Little John and Friar Tuck filed to the left, and each member filled in until they were forming a straight line, facing the throne and the King. One by one he made his way down the line, bestowing medals and honor on each one. Marian kept her head down, waiting her turn and listening to the swell of applause after each name was announced. Richard finally made it to Will, announcing his name to the entire assembly. The young boy stood stock-still, staring at the King of England in shock. Marian glanced over as the silence stretched and nudged him. "Bow," she whispered. Quickly, Will bobbed his head and she saw Richard suppress a smile. 

"How old are you, my boy?" the King asked. Something in his voice made her look up at him. His eyes were kind as he smiled at Will. 

"Eight," he answered softly. Then he swallowed and added, "But I'll be nine soon!" 

"Your parents must be very proud," Richard said. His voice sounded a bit thick but it was hard to tell from the noise in the room. 

Will looked down at the floor. "Lucy takes care of me, Your Majesty. I don't have parents" 

Richard placed a hand on Will's shoulder, and the young boy looked up, startled. "My son would be about your age," he said softly. Marian wasn't even sure she was supposed to hear this part. "I know, if you were my boy, I would be very proud." Will stared at the king in awe as Richard patted him once more on the shoulder and then moved next to Marian. 

"Marian Harwood," he announced. She bowed her head and Richard held up a small gold pendent imprinted with a rampant lion. "You have performed a great service to this country. I am indebted to you and present you with this medal of honor, in recognition of your valor and sacrifice." The people clapped and cheered as he placed the medal around her neck. Even though it was the same thing he had said for everyone else, her heart still soared and she couldn't help the smile on her face. 

"Thank you, Ranger," Richard said softly. Then he moved on to the last person in line, the one everyone was really here to see. 

A murmur moved through the assembled crowd while Richard scanned the room, building the anticipation. Marian hid a smile as she turned to face the assembly along with her friends who had already received their commendations. The king certainly knew how to work a room. "Sir Robin of Locksley," he called out. His voice cut through the growing noise. "Though it may be better to call you by the name the people know best." There was a cheer that set off a chain reaction, and the sound grew until it filled the room. Richard raised his hands and it slowly quieted. "When I left England to fight in the Holy Land, I believed this country to be in good hands. I am happy to see my belief was well-founded." 

She could see the whispers move through the room like a breeze, but the king raised his voice over them. "When this country was threatened by greed and corruption, this man stood against it. He stood for what was right and just. He stood for the true heart of England: it's people!" 

Applause rumbled through the room. Marian glanced over at Robin, who was hiding his face carefully as Richard continued. "For a country is only as great as the hard work and strong hearts of the men, women, and children who live in it. Without its people, England is nothing but earth and stone. And Robin Hood fought for the people of England to have the right that is every man's—the right to make the life he wills by the sweat of his brow and strength of his soul. 

Richard looked around, meeting the eyes of his subjects. "We have weathered a trying time thanks to people like Robin Hood and his friends, a symbol of what England truly is. Now I have returned home to the country and people I have missed dearly. Yes, there are harms to remedy and lives to rebuild, but our spirit remains intact. England may be bruised, but we are not beaten. We will rise, and rise again!" 

"From this day forth, I hereby decree that Robin Hood, Lord of Locksley, and his companions, to be pardoned of any and all crimes, with all land and properties reinstated, and declare them champions of the people." 

The crowd roared. Marian felt goose bumps on her arms as the energy crackled around them, fairly shaking the stone foundation of the castle. It was amazing the loyalty King Richard could inspire by his presence, and she understood more about why Robin had fought so hard during his absence. Her respect for this foreign king rose as she recognized the devotion on his subjects' faces. Richard placed a medal around Robin's neck and then the people's champion turned to face the room. Marian didn't think it could get any louder but when he turned the cheering doubled. She couldn't help the laugh of joy that bubbled out of her. When she looked over at her friends, all of them were grinning or laughing. Will seemed to have gotten over his fear of the crowd since he was waving at the cheering people. She also could've sworn she saw Little John wipe away a tear as he looked on at Robin standing before the masses. 

She was so proud of him. Marian had only been a part of their group for a short time compared to how long he had been an outlaw. He had fought the whole time to free his people from the yoke of the Sheriff, desperately holding on until King Richard returned. Now that it had happened, it felt like the first real breath of spring after a long winter. New life was ahead and everything seemed possible. For the moment, they were happy. 

RMRMRMRMRMR 

She was seated at the head table, a few seats down from the King. After the ceremony, everyone had moved to the Great Hall—which Michael insisted was completely different than the Grand Hall—for supper and dancing. The guests of honor were awarded seats with royal family. To Richard's right sat Prince John and to the King's left was the Queen Mother. The noble lady had nodded to Marian as she passed by, a smile playing about her lips and Marian curtsied towards her. Robin was seated to the Queen's left, Jenny was next to him, and Christopher on the end. Unfortunately, the only thing that put a pall on the evening was that she had been assigned the seat to Prince John's right. Little John was on her right and Will was on his far end, completing the number of people at the head table. 

Before they sat down, Prince John took her hand and pressed it to his lips, telling her it was a pleasure to finally meet her in person. But she wasn't charmed by the gesture. In fact, a chill ran down her spine as the Sheriff's words came back to her about the prince's plan. How much did this man really know? One thing was certain; King Richard was still in danger as long as Prince John was around. 

"My lady, you look radiant this evening," John complimented, pulling out her chair for her. "I'm sure I'll be the envy of the Hall to have such a beautiful dinner partner." 

Marian sat gingerly on its edge, and she noticed Little John's concerned glances. "Thank you, Your Highness," she said, wincing at how stiff she sounded. She took a breath and added airily, "but the credit goes to the Dowager, she was kind enough to lend me a dress that could make anyone look good." 

"My mother certainly has an eye for fashion, and she loves to bestow favors," the prince murmured, taking his own seat. She eyed him as he poured a dark wine into his goblet. Marian could see the resemblance to his brother in angle of his jaw line and strong nose. But the Prince was much thinner and had a harder look to his eyes. He had inherited his mother's coloring, neatly trimmed blonde hair and beard with only hints of red that showed in the firelight. 

"I have to say," he commented as the food came out and the feast began. "We don't have many women warriors here. Is it common where you come from?" 

Marian glanced at the roasted fowl in front of her, covered in what looked like a delicious creamy sauce. It's a shame she was too nervous to really taste it. "You do me too much honor, Highness," she smiled at him, though it felt brittle on her face. "I simply have a knack for archery. Many people I know learn the bow and arrow, if only to help supplement their tables." 

She saw the interest spark in his eyes. "I would love to hear more about your home country," he responded. "I haven't heard much from Richard and your presence is quite an intriguing mystery." 

"I am no mystery, Highness," she answered, lifting her chin. "I am easy to understand, really. I am loyal to my country and my family, and anyone I chose to include in those categories." 

He lifted his eyebrow slightly and she knew he heard the threat in her voice. "Well, I certainly would enjoy a visit to this place that inspires such fervor," John said to her. There was no mistaking the undercurrent of greed. She knew exactly what kind of visit he wanted to make. 

"I am sure you would receive a most enthusiastic welcome," Marian replied with just a hint of bite to her words. She wanted to make sure he understood. If he ever decided to turn his gaze toward Araluen he would not get far. 

He smiled slowly. "I look forward to it." 

The challenge rang in the air between them and though they moved on to the more typical ballroom small talk, the tension remained. It wasn't until John left the table to dance with one of the noblewomen that Marian realized she needed to relax. The tension flowed out of her shoulders and she let out a breath. Food still remained on her plate, but she found her appetite had disappeared. 

"That was certainly something," John said beside her. "I think you need a drink." 

Marian gave him a sideways look. "Yes, thank you so much for your help," she drawled. 

"You seemed to be doing perfectly fine on your own," he answered, not the least bit apologetic. "But don't worry. I was ready to provide a distraction if necessary. I kept my cup quite full." 

She laughed and felt the last bit of apprehension leave her body. Marian could picture the scene, and almost wish it had been necessary for John to put his back up plan in motion. 

"There it is," Little John said when she laughed. "There's that smile. Come on, let's forget about John boy, over there. This is supposed to be our party, isn't it?" He pushed back his chair and held out his hand. "Would you do me the honor, my lady?" 

Marian grinned and took the proffered hand. Prince John would not ruin this evening for her. Whatever happened in the future, she was determined to enjoy tonight. "I would be happy to." 

Robin watched Little John lead Marian onto the dance floor and felt himself ease back in his chair with a smile. He noticed who her other dinner partner had been and he couldn't help but sneak glances at their conversation. She had been tense, as if preparing to go into battle and it was hard not to be distracted. 

At least now she was having a bit more fun. She twirled around, her dress shimmering in the candlelight. Robin glanced to his left and saw the king conversing quietly with a breathless page who had just arrived. If he could just stay in this moment, his people happy and his country safe, then he would be content. 

But he couldn't. Even though tonight felt like it could go on forever, the hours slipped away and the time when Marian would leave and he would return to Locksley was coming ever closer. He wiped his palms surreptitiously on his tunic. The thought of actually telling her, straight out, made him more nervous than any mission he had conducted while an outlaw in Sherwood. 

He noticed some of the other male guests approach Marian and ask her to dance. She wasn't a stranger to royal gatherings and ballrooms, and let them lead her through each song. It was easy to loose sight of her among the gliding couples, but every once in awhile the crowd would part and she was there. He clearly wasn't the only one who couldn't help but notice her. 

"All right, grumpy, what is going on?" Jenny's voice piped up on his left. "Tonight's celebration is all about you, and this is the gloomiest I've ever seen you!" 

Robin shook his head and flashed a forced smile at his friend. "Sorry Jenny, it's nothing. I'm just thinking." 

Jenny pursed her lips. She knew exactly what was wrong, everyone could see it except maybe the one person who needed to. "You're going to tell her, right?" 

Robin jumped a little in his chair and stared at her. She grinned wryly. "What, you thought I didn't notice? You could barely get two words out when you saw her today." 

"Jenny," he said in a weary voice. 

"Robin," she imitated him. When he glared she simply raised her eyebrows. Then she relented and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Look, you are two of my best friends. You should tell her, before she leaves." 

Robin closed his eyes; he was past trying to deny it. "I planned to, but…I don't want to ruin things." 

"She's leaving tomorrow, Robin," Jenny said. She was kind but insistent. "How do you expect her to decide to stay if you don't tell her how you feel?" 

The music stopped and Jenny shoved his shoulder. 'Go' she mouthed. Robin swallowed and got up from the table to make his way to dance floor, which was growing more crowded by the minute. It took him longer than he thought to push his way through the people. As soon as he stepped down from the dais well-wishers and admirers surrounded him. While he smiled and shook hands, murmuring pleasantries, he had to wonder how many of them had condemned his actions before the King publicly rewarded him. 

He fended them off as best he could all the while trying to keep track of Marian through the moving crowd. The music started up again and Robin kept pace with the pulse of the dance, moving with the current of people instead of trying to cut straight through. The couples parted and turned to the next partner and suddenly Marian appeared in front of him. 

"Robin!" she shouted when she saw him. He noticed her hesitate a little but then she smiled. Her cheeks were flushed from drink and dance and some strands of hair had come out of their pins. "The hero descends to mingle with the masses," she teased. "Are you joining the dance?" 

He took Marian's hand. "I came to talk to you," he said. She studied his face. They were a spot of stillness in the middle of the twirling crowd. When Marian nodded Robin kept hold of her hand and led her out to one of the many balconies that dotted walls, alcoves for those who needed to escape the pressing heat of bodies or the constant demand of social conversation. 

The air was cool and the sky glittered above them. The outer edge of the balcony was still shrouded in shadow and behind them they could hear the muted hum that always accompanied a large crowd of people. Marian placed her hands on the stone ledge and leaned against it lifting her face to the cool night air and letting the breeze kiss her skin. 

"I didn't realize how warm it was in there," she said, turning to him. Robin was gazing at her, his heart in his mouth. She was radiant, framed by starlight and firelight. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to be the one to make her laugh. He wanted her to test him on his decisions and opinions. He wanted to kiss her. But all of these things he wanted to say stuck in his throat now that it came time to say it all. 

She frowned, not quite understanding the expression on his face. "What is it? What's wrong?" 

Robin licked his lips. _Start small_ , he told himself. He took a breath and placed his hands on the balcony's ledge, looking out across the city instead of at her. "Marian, there is something I need to say, before you leave London," he answered. 

She didn't want to spoil the evening by talking about her leaving. The last time that happened they fought and she couldn't bear that right now. "Robin—" 

He waved his hand, cutting her off. "I just—I need to say it all right now, or I'm not going to be able to say anything," he smiled weakly and ran a hand through his hair. 

"I want you to know, first, that I was wrong. I should not have lied to you." He looked earnestly at her. Even though a part of Marian was still angry, she could feel herself soften against his gaze. "I realize no matter my intentions, I can't keep things from you and I need you to know that it will never happen again," he said. 

"Thank you," she said softly. 

Robin nodded, gathering the courage he needed. "You need to know that, before I tell you the next thing." 

Marian cocked her head and crossed her arms. "You're making me nervous." 

He spread his hands out before him, helplessly. "I'm in love with you, Marian." 

The breath left her and she stared at him, frozen. He ran a hand through his hair again, glancing away. "I think I've been in love with you for a long time. It may have started when I first saw you confront Sir Guy, all fury and ready to do battle. I love the way you're always so sure about yourself, your stubbornness, the way you talk about your home and your family. I love your laugh, the way you can be angry with just a look, and how you can outshoot everyone here." He stepped closer and placed his hand over hers. Marian was sure he could hear her heart it was beating so loudly. Though her brain kept telling her this was a bad idea and she should pull away now, something her kept her in place. 

"You're beautiful, and amazing. The thought of you leaving, of never seeing you again…I needed you to know. There is a place for you in Locksley, if you want it." 

His hand was still on hers and, without thinking, she curled her fingers around his. "Robin," she whispered. Her throat closed, and she wasn't quite sure if she was scared, sad, or overjoyed. "You don't understand how much..." she cleared her throat and started again. "What would happen if I stayed with you, and then five years later I have to go home? It would be better for everyone if I simply left now. I can't put you through that. The uncertainty would tear us apart." 

"No, that's not true," Robin protested. Slowly, to make sure it was all right, he caressed her cheek. She looked up at him. "Two of the most stubborn people I know? We could handle whatever the world—yours or mine—threw at us," he said. 

They were standing so close now. She could feel his body heat on her skin, and it wasn't the night air giving her goosebumps. She knew the smart thing would be to walk away. It would be best to simply tell him she didn't feel the same way, that she didn't want to hurt him anymore than she already had. But tonight she felt free and a little reckless, as if it might just be possible to stay. The lure of what he offered pulled at her like a siren song. She knew she should fight it, but she didn't want to. 

Marian stepped forward, closing her eyes, and pressed her lips against his. She felt a moment's surprised hesitation and then his hand moved to her neck while the other slipped around her waist and pulled her close. Marian wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her. She gasped against his mouth as his lips parted hers. Her fingers twisted in his hair. The night air was no longer cool and a different kind of heat seared across her skin. He pressed her against the stone balustrade. The edge dug sharply into her back, a counterpoint to the loose, giddy feeling in her limbs. It provided a support for her as her knees became weak and her stomach fluttered. She forgot about the people inside, forgot about the music, forgot about tomorrow. She forgot about everything except right here and now. His hands moved across her body, skimming down her back and trailing fire in their wake. 

Robin finally pulled back, and rested his forehead against hers. Both of them were breathing heavily and it took Marian a moment to remember where she was. A sudden swell of music brought a blush to her cheeks as she realized they were only a few feet away from a room filled with hundreds of people. 

"Does…" he caught his breath and looked into her eyes. His were a beautiful dark brown and filled with a light that made her smile. "Does this mean you'll stay?" 

God, she wanted to. She wanted to see what came next and experience it with him. But whatever they had, it was strong and it scared her. If it grew more than it had already, how much would it hurt later on? No matter what Robin said she didn't know if she could let herself go through that. 

She studied him, trying to memorize they way he looked in this moment, his eyes bright and hopeful and loving. "Robin, I—" 

"Ahem," 

They jumped apart, Robin turning and Marian stepping to the side to put a more appropriate distance between them. The page who had interrupted them was doing an admirable job of not looking embarrassed. 

"Pardon me my lord, my lady," he bowed. "But the King has summoned Lady Marian to speak with him. He says it is urgent. If you'll follow me?" 

Marian brushed her gown with her hands to steady them and give her time to gather her wits. "Of course, thank you." She shot Robin an apologetic look and then followed the page back into the mass of people. Though part of her was disappointed by the interruption, a small part was relieved. Now at least she had time to figure out what to say to him while her guide skirted the edges of the room. No one waylaid them and those who saw them recognized the page was working and turned back to the entertainment. 

He led her into an empty hallway. After the cacophony of the ballroom the silence rang in her ears and she had to stop herself from shaking her head to clear them. "What does the King want?" she asked the young boy leading her through the castle. 

"I can't say my lady," he answered. She tried to engage him in conversation a few more times but it was to no avail. Eventually she just distracted herself with the possible things the King could want to talk about. It wasn't long until she realized he was taking her to the room where she battled Havershom with the King, which must double as a private reception room. The page led her through the now-empty throne room, their footsteps echoing in the stale air. Their way was lit only by the pale moonlight that streamed through the high arched windows. 

They traversed the open space, taking a wide berth around the thrones even though no one else was in the room. It seemed the chairs, or the specter of the people who sat in them, demanded respect even when empty. 

The page stopped at the closed office door and Marian could hear the murmur of two voices. When the boy knocked those voices paused, then Richard's rose and she could hear him answer, "Come in!" The boy pushed the door open and Marian followed. Someone was standing in front of the king, facing away from the door. King Richard smiled as they entered and something in his grin made Marian a tad suspicious. 

"Lady Marian, thank you for joining us," he said as the page stepped to the side, giving Marian an unimpaired view of the stranger. She froze. 

She started breathing faster as her brain registered the brown hair, short stature, and the mottled green cloak that hung from the visitor's shoulders. He turned and when she saw his face, the only thing she could do was make a small, strangled sound of surprise. 

"So, you've become a lady now, huh?" Will Treaty teased gently. His beard had grown and his eyes were a bit more haunted. But they still smiled at her in the same way. In fact, if she hadn't been about to cry herself, she would have teased him that the seemed a little bit watery. "I didn't think you were gone that long." 

Marian let out a sob and then barreled into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his shoulder. After Robin had told her what the _valkan_ had said, some small part of her believed she would never see her mentor again. Now, here he was, holding her tight and telling her everything was going to be fine. 

"We shall leave you two to talk and catch up," Richard said kindly, and then ushered the page out ahead of him. When the door clicked shut Will put his hands on Marian's shoulders and she stepped back, laughing and wiping her eyes. 

"I didn't think…I'm so glad you're here," she said. 

He gave her a lopsided grin. "It's good to see you, too. You seem to have done all right," he gestured at her dress. "You look all grown up now," he said softly. 

Marian grinned. "It was a gift, but I can tell you about it later. How is everyone? Are they all right? What happened with the war? If you're here that means Jeren is gone, right?" 

There were two empty chairs facing the king's desk and Will sat in one, gesturing for Marian to do the same. She noticed he moved more slowly than usual and for the first time she saw a thin cane resting on the arm of his chair. There was a small flutter of fear in her stomach and she frowned at him. "What happened?" 

He sighed. "It's just a small injury. I'm healing," he reassured her. "It's just taking a bit longer than usual." 

Marian frowned, worried. "How—?" 

Will held up a hand. "How do we report?" 

She closed her eyes and took a breath. He was right. No matter how she felt at his return, they were Rangers. "From the beginning." 

He smiled. "That's right. I'll tell you everything, but then it's your turn. I want to know it all, no matter what. I want to know if you're all right." Marian nodded. 

"Good," Will said. Marian shifted her chair so she could better face him and he settled back, telling her what had happened after she left. He assured her that Halt, Alyss, Gilan, and Carey and James were all still alive and doing well. She cried when he told her the names of those she knew who were killed. He skimmed over his encounter with the _valkan_ to give her the barest outline of how he acquired the limp. Will didn't want her worrying about that whole thing right now. He talked for a long time, but the worst news came last. 

"Marian, King Duncan was assassinated. Cassandra is queen now." She stared at him in shock, her eyes widening. 

"What?" she whispered. 

"It was the _valkans_. We think Jeren sent them and his forces for a final attack while he disappeared. If they won, he could come out of hiding. If they lost, he would have a head start." He slammed his fist on the arm of his chair. "That bastard got away." 

She had never seen him this angry and distraught at the same time. "We'll get him Will," she said slowly, not sure about this new role of hers. "It doesn't matter how far of a head start he has, we'll get him. That's what we do." 

Will unclenched his fist and slowly relaxed. Marian was glad because she was on surer ground when Will was the one who was confident and in charge. 

"You're right, of course. There is nothing we can do about it tonight," he laughed. "When did you start giving me advice?" 

"I just think of what you would say," she said honestly. "It's how I made it." 

Marian couldn't see it, and Will wouldn't tell her, but he was touched. He had been so worried about her, even when he finally made his way through the gateway, followed her trail to London, and then the King himself wanted to see him. His whole trip he heard whispers about someone called Robin Hood, and a "maid Marian." It couldn't be coincidence, but none of those stories told him definitely what had happened to her. When the King received him, Will noticed the amount of respect present in Richard's voice when he talked about her. When Richard got to the part about saving his life, Will didn't think he could feel more proud. Then Marian appeared, looking like a young noble lady, and he wished Alyss had come with him to see this. But when she hurtled across the room to hug him, he knew she was still his apprentice. 

"Tell me," Will said. So she did. Marian related her journey from the moment she met another Will in Sherwood forest to the day she decided to join a rebellion. He raised his eyebrow at that and Marian shrugged, embarrassed. "I didn't want to leave and I couldn't let the people be exploited," she explained. Will chuckled, and Marian smiled back at him, relieved. He shouldn't have been surprised. If anyone was going to find a rebellion to fight in while visiting another world it would be Marian. And, from the way she talked he knew he would have to meet this Robin of Locksley. 

She told him what happened to her while a captive of the Sheriff of Nottingham and the more she spoke the more Will found himself trying to keep his anger in check. "I had to let him go," Marian admitted. She eyed Will to see how he would react. "If I didn't…someone else would have died." 

"You made the right decision, Marian," he told her. He was being honest, but he also knew what would happen if he ever came across this Sheriff of Nottingham. 

Will noticed her hesitate. He waited for her to get her thoughts together. Finally Marian voiced her suspicions. "I think Jeren and the Sheriff have met before," she said. 

He let that sink in. "How do you know that?" 

"From something the Sheriff said when I was captured. Will, there might be something more behind the war Jeren started." 

Will turned this over in his mind. "When we go home, we will have to report to Cassandra and Horace, and Gilan will want to know as well. We can talk it over on the journey tomorrow." 

That brought her up short. "Tomorrow?" she asked. 

"Yes," Will said. Then he frowned slightly. "Is something wrong? I thought you would want to get back home." 

"No!" Of course she wanted to go home as soon as possible, but the sadness she felt at leaving was sharper than she had anticipated. "I just—I just wanted you to meet everyone. I've told so many stories it would be nice for them to put a face to a name," she smiled. 

"Hold on," Will asked warily. "Stories?" 

"I told them as fairy tales for some of the kids. You were a hit," Marian chuckled. 

"Well in that case," Will stood up, rolling his shoulders. "We might as well give the fans what they want." Marian rolled her eyes but stood up with him. She was excited to introduce everyone to her mentor, including Robin. Even if it meant it would be the goodbye she hadn't yet been able to make. 

"Most of them are at the party, I'll bring you there. I know you love those," she said. 

Will grimaced. "On second thought…" 

Marian grabbed his arm and led him out the door. "Come on. You don't get to get out of this now." 

Will sighed heavily in exaggeration. "Lead the way, my lady." 

RMRMRMRMR 

When Robin saw Marian come back into the room, he felt like someone kicked him in the chest. He knew the significance of that mottled cloak. Marian was going home. Will Scarlet found them, and looked delighted when she introduced to the two of them. Marian looked out over the crowd and her smile faltered when she caught his eyes. Squaring his shoulders, Robin pushed his way through the crowd towards them. He struggled to keep his emotions in check. He had thought she was going to stay, but now he knew she never would. 

"Did you really defeat a wizard?" Will asked the cloaked man skeptically as Robin came closer. The man laughed 

"You could say that. But he wasn't really a wizard, he just seemed like it." 

"Oh," Will seemed disappointed. 

The man glanced up and saw Robin approach. Will turned when he noticed the Ranger mark someone else's presence and beamed. "Robin! This is Will Treaty. The actual, real Will Treaty. Like in Marian's stories." 

"Robin Hood?" Will Treaty asked. 

"The same. Though now I'm Robin of Locksley." He extended his hand to Marian's mentor. "It's an honor to meet you, sir. Marian has told me a lot about you." 

"Likewise," Will said carefully, seizing him up. Then he shook his hand. Marian was standing close to Will and eyeing the two of them carefully. 

"Will, do you think you could introduce me to your other friends here? I think Marian and Robin have something to talk about." Young Will looked at Robin who nodded. 

"All right," Will said. "You can meet Little John." He took Will by the hand and tugged him away. Robin and Marian watched them leave until they were swallowed up by the crowd. Robin put his hand on Marian's elbow and they moved closer to the wall, behind one of the large columns that supported the ceiling. 

"When?" Robin asked. 

"Tomorrow." She looked at him, apology and guilt flickering across her face. "This is it Robin." 

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I know, it's just when we kissed…would you have stayed Marian? If Will hadn't arrived?" 

She looked startled. "I—I don't…Robin, this is exactly what I warned you would happen!" 

Robin looked pained. "You weren't going to stay then." 

"Robin…" she reached out to touch his arm, but he stopped her. He took her hand in both of his. 

"Don't," he said. "I can't—" he cut himself off. He met her eyes and searched them for a moment, but she didn't know what he was looking for, or what he found. "I'm sorry." 

He let go of her hand and Marian watched him walk away. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. This hurt worse than expected. She leaned her head against the stone column, struggling to keep her tears from falling. Her throat hurt from trying not to make a sound. 

"Marian?" 

She looked up and saw Will standing there, concern etched on his face. She quickly swiped at her eyes. "I'm fine, Will," she smiled weakly. "Promise." 

He folded her into a hug and now Marian let herself cry into the safety of her mentor's cloak. "I know you are." 

RMRMRMRM 

Robin padded across the floor in his bare feet to answer the knocking at his door. He really didn't want to talk to anyone right now, and if one of his friends had followed they weren't going to get a very warm welcome. 

But he wasn't expecting this visitor. Robin blinked in surprise, holding the door open while trying to think of a reason for Will Treaty to be at his door. 

"May I come in?" The Ranger asked. His voice was low and not unkind, but it was hard to read him. His hood was pushed back, so Robin could see his youthful face. But he noticed the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and the stiff way he held his shoulders. 

Robin stepped aside to let the older man. "How can I help you?" 

Will rubbed his chin, glancing around the sparse room. "You've packed." 

Robin clenched his jaw. "I'm needed at Locksley," he said. For some reason, the understanding look Will gave rankled him. He didn't want this right now. 

"I've heard a lot about you, young man," Will said. "People are calling you a hero." 

A while back, he didn't mind when people called him that. In fact, he kind of enjoyed playing off of the title. But lately it mattered less and less what people called him. He just wanted to be normal again, and do the right thing. "I'm not a hero, sir." 

Will cocked his head to the side. "You may not feel like a hero, but you are a good man. Marian speaks very highly of you." 

Robin winced, struggling to keep a straight face. "Why are you here Ranger Treaty?" 

"I don't know how far it has gone between the two of you," Will said. He held up a hand, interrupting Robin's protests. Then he smiled sadly. "I'm not blind Robin. I can see it in the way she talks about you." 

"Well, it's not something you have to worry about," Robin answered, unable to keep his voice completely level. 

"That is why I'm here," Will said. "You are a good man, Robin, and you need to know that when she leaves, well, it's likely she won't ever return. What with Jeren still missing and the King..." Will shook his head. "There are many things that must be sorted out at home. When she is a full Ranger she will have her own fief to patrol. Communications and terms are established between our countries, but that is as far as it can go for a long while." 

Robin was frozen. He knew, logically, this was going to happen. That Marian would disappear and never come back. But somewhere in the back of his mind he had harbored a hope that maybe, maybe it wouldn't be forever. "What is your point sir?" 

"You have to let her go," Will said. It wasn't a suggestion, but an expectation. "I don't want you, either of you, holding on to something that can't happen. You're both young, good people, and you have to move on as if this had never happened." 

"Never happened?" Robin asked, his voice rising. "You people sent her here!" 

Will understood the anger Robin was trying to hide and he sympathized. But he needed to make the boy understand. "I wish it didn't have to be this way, but that is part of the job. Let her go, Robin. Do not make this harder on either of you." 

Robin had to swallow a few times before he trusted himself to speak. He blinked a few times, refusing to cry in front of the Ranger. He knew what the man was asking, and he didn't like it. But if it would make things easier for her, he would. "I understand." 

The silence grew. At last, Will nodded, though he seemed sad when he turned and opened the door. "Very well, then," he said. "Goodnight, Robin. I wish you well. I have a sense that Locksley is in good hands." 

Robin inclined his head, not sure what to say and not sure if he wanted to say anything at all. Will disappeared down the corridor and Robin shut his door. When he finally made it to bed, he stared at the ceiling. He could feel the warm, slow trail of the tears that leaked out of the corner of his eyes. The sounds of the revelry echoed faintly in the night. 

RMRMRMRM 

They were assembled at the gate, early enough in the morning that most of the sky was still grey. Sky and Tug were nose to nose, communicating in the way Ranger ponies do and doing some catching up of their own. 

Marian was back in her usual uniform and felt much more comfortable. The queen's gift was safely stowed away in her bags, for use in Araluen, and the King's medal of honor stored safely with it. 

Jenny hugged Marian tightly. "You be careful, all right?" she said. "Write or visit if you can." 

She nodded, not able to tell her friend that wouldn't be possible, at least for a long time. "Will you say goodbye to everyone for me? I'm sorry I couldn't see them before I left." 

"You know we will, lass," Little John said, pulling her in to another bone-crushing hug when she let Jenny go. It was a bit tight but Marian didn't mind. Little John was like a big uncle, whose hugs made her feel safe. "They'll understand." He squeezed her once and then let her go. When she saw the tears in his eyes, she felt a hitch in her throat. "Sounds like its time for you to find another country to save." 

Marian smiled and then looked at Will Scarlet, who was looking glum next to Little John. "I'm going to miss you." 

"I'm going to miss you too," he mumbled. Marian waited, opening her arms. The boy looked around, embarrassed, but it didn't take long for him to give her a hug. "You watch out for them for me, all right?" she asked. The boy nodded in her shoulder and then Marian held him at arms length, grinning. "You're the only one I trust to keep them in line." 

"Don't worry Marian," Will said, lifting his chin. "I can do it." 

"I know you can," she said, reaching out to ruffle his hair. Will scrunched his face and then fixed his hair as soon as Marian stopped. 

"God bless, child," Tuck said to her. He was the last in line. "I have a feeling you'll be needing it." 

Marian kissed him on the cheek. "I'll take any help I can get Friar. Thank you." 

Will Treaty swung into Tug's saddle. "It was an honor to meet all of you," he said. "Thank you for watching out for Marian." 

"Ach, lad, she watched out for us!" Little John replied with a hearty laugh. Marian hid a smile as she mounted Sky's saddle. 

"Lad?" Will asked her quietly. 

Marian snorted and shook her head. "Term of endearment," she said absently, scanning the nearly empty courtyard. Sky flicked her tail and she could feel Will's concerned look. 

"I don't think he's coming Marian. We should get going." 

Marian nodded, ignoring the knot in her stomach. She was never going to see him again and it would've been nice to say goodbye one more time, in spite of everything. But what was done was done, and she couldn't think about that now. This was the moment she had been waiting for, ever since she got here in the first place. It should feel good, right? 

The gates rattled open and Will glanced at her, questioning. Marian looked back one more time, expecting to see the familiar figure with tousled brown hair striding towards them. But the courtyard remained empty and she could only hear the quiet murmurings of a castle about to wake. 

"We can wait a few more minutes," Will murmured to her. Marian bit her lip and then shook her head sharply. "No. If he's not here... let's go." She cleared her throat and raised her chin, staring up at the sky until the stinging in her eyes abated. She put a smile on her face and turned, waving once more to her friends. Her eyes caught a flicker of movement high up in one of the castle windows, but when she looked it was nothing but an empty black space. The smile on her face faltered as she gazed at the window. "Goodbye, archer boy," she whispered. 

RMRMRM 

Robin closed his eyes and laid his head against the stone wall, hoping she hadn't seen him. Spots danced in his vision while his eyes adjusted from looking into the sunlight to the dim interior of the tower room. He took a few more deep breaths, waiting until he was sure, and then slowly edged around the window's corner. Ranger Treaty and Marian were already trotting out the gate on their ponies. They were so small, like tiny figurines, but Robin could easily pick her out, from her curly hair and the way she held her shoulders. Part of him wished she would look up once more. But he had missed his chance. She continued down the path, the gates shutting behind her, the noise of their clatter seconds behind. Robin continued to look out the window, watching as the figures grew smaller and smaller, until they disappeared for good behind a rise in the land. "Farewell, fair Maid Marian," he murmured to her. But she was already gone. 


	27. Epilogue

"I'm disappointed," Prince John drawled. He looked out the window of his palace room, staring at the road the Lady Marian had traversed just days earlier upon her departure. He swirled the wine in his glass, thinking over their conversation at the celebration. She was proving to be worthy opponent. It was probably for the best she and the upstart Robin of Locksley were separated now. It would make things much easier. "Here I was, hoping you would take care of your end of the bargain. Yet, here you are, running away with your tail between your legs."

"We can still get what we want," his visitor spat from behind him. "It was just a minor setback."

John sneered. "One, I would not call losing a war a minor setback. You even failed in the first part of your plan, to get rid of these Rangers, as you call them. Two, who says there is still a 'we' in this partnership? Perhaps I no longer have any use for you."

"No more use for me?" the man asked, his voice rising in pitch. "Let's get something straight. You will never be able to handle Araluen without me." His partner drained the last of the wine from his own glass. "I may have lost the war, but I killed the king. Which is more than I can say for you."

John felt the twitch in his eye kick in, when it usually did under stress. His brother had been exceedingly uncooperative in not dying when he was supposed to. Something that would have to be remedied quite soon. "Well then, it looks like neither of us have the crowns he desire as of yet. But I am much closer to getting it than you appear to be, Sir Jeren. When I found you in those woods by that doorway, you painted me a pretty picture of the possible future we could have if I decided not to kill you. Yet the picture has not come to fruition. So tell me," John placed the wine glass on his bedside table, and fingered the knife at his belt as he turned to face his visitor. "What else can you still offer?"

Jeren looked haggard. His clothes were filthy with dirt and dried blood and his hair had not been cut in some time. The loss in Araluen had created hard lines around his eyes, making him look even crueler than before. He felt the universe was against him and so he fought back harder, in any way he could, no matter the consequences. He was an effective assest for John's purposes, but that didn't mean he was indispensible. But right now, Prince John could still make this work.

"Queen Cassandra is still new to the throne," Jeren answered. "Araluen is at a tipping point. My forces weakened the country and if they're looking for me, they won't be looking for anything else. You'll need my information and my help if you want the benefits of our bargain. I still get the crown, and you receive extra tithes and resources. Not to mention another agent for your unfulfilled plan this side of the gateway."

"You're willing to help me become King of England?" John asked. Oh, he knew he could play this man. The desperation oozed out of him like mud in a swamp. If he played his cards right, he might just take control of both countries. He just needed to take one step at a time.

"As long as you're willing to help me get my crown," Jeren said. He knew the prince was the only one ambitious and powerful enough to get him what he wanted. There may have been a wrinkle in his plans, but he had no doubt he could play the situation to his advantage. The prince thought himself the better player, but perhaps Jeren had him right where he wanted him.

The two men eyed each other like wolves vying for domination of the pack. This dance, however, was played best in the shadows so they played with their words and smiled at each other.

"In that case," John said, un-stoppering the decanter and filling each cup again. He raised his glass, as if making a toast. Jeren took his own, waiting for the prince to speak. "It seems our bargain is intact." They clinked glasses, and drank.

RMRMRMR

Duval, formerly Sheriff of Nottingham now nothing of nowhere, watched as the two cloaked and mounted figures left the lone watch tower and took off at a canter towards what he had discovered was Castle Araluen, the capitol. Both figures were slight, but he recognized the smaller one. She was, after all, the one he had been waiting for.

The mercenaries he had brought with him slumbered back at the campsite they had set up, hidden from the tower's view. He had crawled through that blasted gateway, barely keeping the mercenaries in check, and dug his own tunnel out here after they hit a locked and heavy door at the end. He didn't want to take any more chances then necessary.

Back in England he had been taken for a fool. He was the fall man for Prince John's scheme, and that blasted little bitch and Hood had gone straight after him. They had ruined it all. But now he had men, a new world, and no one to answer to. It was time for him to rise higher than he ever had. There were just a few things he had to take care of first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read this and to everyone who has kudos. You are all amazing and I really appreciate every bit of your interactions with the story! I have plans for a sequel for any who are curious about continuing on with Robin and Marian :) As always, please feel free to leave comments, I love to hear from you. Thank you all so much again, and I hope you enjoyed it!


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